


Touch Starved

by Galxcs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prince!Sirius, Slow Burn, Trauma, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galxcs/pseuds/Galxcs
Summary: In the Kingdom of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin lives a good life with his parents until Fenrir Greyback kills them and takes Remus as a servant for the group of criminals that Greyback leads known as the Wolfpack. Raised on only abuse and harsh commands, Remus grows a stranger to the lighter and hopeful side of the human touch. That is, until Sirius Black rolls around. The prince of Hogwarts spent his life tracking down Fenrir and his Wolves with his knights, but when he meets Remus, he makes it his new goal to teach the boy that not all touch is as bad as Remus was raised to believe.
Relationships: Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 68
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic I started while working on my previous one, which is now finished! It will be updated pretty slowly and very irregularity, so if that’s not your groove I’m sorry that I’m the worst procrastinator! I really hope it’s enjoyed, and I love feedback! You can reach me at my tumblr (also galxcs) <3

**Prologue** -

There were three things in the world that always made Remus, six years of age, happy.

The first of those three things were the few times that Remus could convince his mother to stay in his room late into the night, reading bedtime stories to him. He loved listening to the adventures of knights from far away kingdoms with fire breathing dragons, or pirates that sailed oceans he had never seen with unimaginable treasures. He loved following his mother's words with his little fingers on the page, trying to piece the letters together.

The second thing was when Remus’ father came home from the village with his brown honey colored sack. He always knew what that sack meant, and before his father had even made it two steps into the house, he was jumping up and down excitedly. It was a rarity for his father to come home with chocolate; it was usually too expensive. Remus would eat his share of chocolate with his parents, and then wrap his arms as far as he could around his father’s neck, never letting go.

The last of them were the nights that Remus’ father would take him up the hill with the big cream quilt that his grandmother had sewn them. He would sprawl the quilt down onto the grass, and they laid down on their backs, staring up at the twinkling stars that littered the sky like pinpricks in the universe. His father knew everything about the stars. He could point out every constellation and every planet, telling him countless stories of vein queens who were hung in the night sky and children who flew on the back of a ram. Remus could have stayed on that quilt all night long if his father would let him on nights like those.

It was on one of those special nights that it happened.

They were just leaving the farmhouse; Remus’ father’s hand in his as they walked the trail leading to the hill.

“I almost forgot,” his father had said, “I got you a present today in the village.”

Remus’ eyes lit up excitedly because he would have been perfectly content just to have that night to watch the stars. There was a meteor shower that night, and they had already spotted a few hurtling stars cutting long tears in the dark night sky.

“I’m going to run back inside and get it.”

His father jogged back to the farmhouse, the door making a loud slapping noise as it closed. Remus looked back up at the sky, smiling with every shooting star that made an appearance.

He was so transfixed with them that he did not notice the shadow in the distance slowly creeping up on him. Not until there was a bag being thrown over his head, and strong arms tossing his struggling form over a broad shoulder. Instantly, the night sky disappeared from his view; the last thing he saw before the bag closed over his eyes being the white full moon shining down on them.

Remus kicked and screamed, calling for his father over and over again until he heard the sound of their farmhouse door slapping loudly and quick footsteps racing towards them. Remus heard his mother yelling, “Lyall!” From the distance.

“Don’t touch my boy!” his father had screamed. It was the last thing Remus ever heard him say.

At the time, there was a moment that Remus thought his father was going to save him. He was passed into someone else’s arms, and he heard a loud struggle from somewhere to his left. There was a thud, and he heard his father let out a sharp gasp.

It wasn’t until a couple hours later when the bag over his head was removed, and Remus caught a glimpse of a blood-soaked knife attached to his captors' hip, that he realized the loud thud he had heard was the sound of his father’s body hitting the ground.

**-Eleven Years Later-**

Remus woke up only a few seconds before a foot hit his stomach. It knocked the air out of him, and he struggled to breathe as black spots filled his vision. Usually he could sense someone nearing him in his sleep with more time to escape, but he had been too tired from yesterday's work.

“Get up you piece of shit!” the grumbling voice of Greyback said, filling his ringing ears.

Remus struggled to climb to his feet, his arm clutched tightly around his stomach. He didn’t dare ask what he did wrong this time, but instead ran through a mental list of the chores he had yesterday, and what he could have possibly messed up.

There were leaves clinging to his ragged shirt from where he had been laying on the forest floor, and he tried to brush them off before Fenrir commented on how disgusting he looked.

Fenrir took hold of Remus’ shirt, pulling him close to his face so that Remus could smell his putrid breath and see yellow stains on his sharp teeth. A silver chain dangled in front of Remus’ face with a little silver moon charm on it. Remus tried to look away, his father’s gift around Fenrir’s neck still making his stomach churn after all these years.

“Did I not tell you yesterday to gather extra firewood for the meetup tonight?” he hissed; his hand still clenched tightly on Remus’ shirt.

“I-I did gather extra firewood,” Remus stuttered, recalling the extra two hours he stayed up last night rummaging the forest floor.

Remus saw it coming before it happened and clenched his stomach in preparation, which turned out to be a terrible idea. The knee that came crashing into his gut sent him doubled over coughing as he tried to regain his composure. Fenrir now had his hand on the back of his throat, squeezing just enough to let him know he was there; his sharp fingernail breaking skin.

“Not enough! There are going to be many fires burning tonight, larger than any we’ve had in the past. You gathered a pitiful amount of wood.”

“I’ll get right to finding more,” Remus insisted, still clutching his stomach.

“You better.” Fenrir threatened. He let go of Remus and turned to walk back to camp. Remus heard him mutter, “Should have killed you too,” as he walked away.

It took every ounce of control he had in his body to hold himself back from attacking Greyback for that. He had learned early on the consequences of fighting back, though, and wouldn’t risk another beating. A part of him hated himself for not defending his father’s honor, but it hadn’t taken long for Remus to learn that all he needed to do was survive, and in order to do that, he had to shut up and keep his head down.

Remus slid back to the ground, resting his back against a tree trunk with his hand gingerly wrapped around his stomach. He could still feel blood trickling down his neck from Fenrir’s claw-like fingernails. It didn’t take long for Peter to come clomping over, sliding down next to him.

“Do I want to know?” Remus asked, his words sounding more like a wheeze.

Remus couldn’t exactly call Peter a friend. They rarely talked except for the few times that Peter had a chance to between work. Remus was the only one around who wasn’t in the loop about the events happening around them, and Peter was the only one who liked gossiping more than anything else, so Remus entertained him, not exactly opposed to hearing about what was going on.

Peter was the only one in camp who was as young as Remus, but unlike Remus, Peter hadn’t been kidnapped. Remus had heard from some of the other wolves that Peter was only there because he had sold out some of his friends to the Pack in order to be favored in Voldemort’s eyes. Remus had never cared to ask him about it.

“Guess who the meetup is with tonight?” Peter asked, sounding excited. 

“The Death Eaters?” Remus guessed, his voice sounding strange still from when Fenrir had knocked the air out of him.

Peter’s face fell in disappointment. “How’d you know?”

“Who else would the Wolfpack be meeting up with?”

“Right, true. Okay, but do you know what the meeting’s about?”

Remus looked at Peter, wondering if he was going to make him answer the question. When Peter didn’t continue, he sighed. “No, I don’t.”

“I heard that the Death Eaters finally have enough allies for the attack on Hogwarts. Tonight is one last celebration before the siege.”

“The siege?” Remus asked, trying to mask the horror in his voice. _Shut up and keep your head down,_ Remus reminded himself. He didn’t need to agree with overrunning the monarchy; he just needed to stay alive.

He may have spent eleven years with the thugs that called themselves the Wolfpack, but that didn’t mean he had grown to hate the Kingdom of Hogwarts like they did. He had been born there after all.

“Yup. According to Silas, Voldemort is finally following through with all the promises he made the Pack. It’s actually happening. No more walking around these filthy woods, stealing from travelers, attacking Hogwarts knights on their journeys. Soon we’ll be in the Hogwarts palace itself.”

Remus didn’t mention that Fenrir would probably kill him before they ever got to that point. The only reason he even kept Remus around was for entertainment and someone to do all the chores that nobody else wanted to do. Remus also suspected that Fenrir kept him as a sort of trophy against his father.

A long time ago, Peter had told him about how he had heard the reason Fenrir went after Remus was because his father had supposedly spoken out against him. Remus didn’t doubt it, his father had never had a strong filter when it came to his opinions on criminals like Greyback. Remus wondered what his father would say to him if he could see him now. It probably wouldn’t be good.

“That’s crazy,” Remus responded, trying to feed into Peter’s gossip, but his voice sounded almost monotoned.

“I know! They’ve finally got all the gangs from the eastern side joining up. The Giants, The Vampires...oh! Get this, I overheard Silas and Greyback talking, and the Blacks are working w—”

“Pettigrew!” Someone yelled from a tent that Remus didn’t bother looking at.

“Oh, got to go! Have fun finding firewood,” Peter laughed as he ran off.

It was hard for Remus to wrap his head around everything Peter had said. If the Wolfpack was a band of lowly thugs, the Death Eaters were a group of merciless and powerful criminals who would stop at nothing to see the Black family removed from the throne. The Blacks may have been power-hungry pure-blooded leaders just like the Death Eaters, but Voldemort only wanted power for himself.

Remus sighed and dragged himself up from the ground, ignoring the aching pain he still felt. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t felt before.

He spent hours gathering wood until his arms were aching, and he was starving from not eating anything that day. He didn’t dare ask for food when Fenrir was so angry with him, or else he might have another chore he would have to waste away doing.

When he was finished, Remus set out to do his normal routine for the day. Feeding and grooming the horses, cleaning and sharpening all the weapons, gathering water from the nearby spring. By the time dinner rolled around, his stomach was growling so loudly that the others were starting to give him cold glares. Remus ducked his head, willing his stomach to be silent. He hated the extra attention.

“Remus, my boy!” Fenrir’s voice sent a shiver down Remus’ spine, and he whipped around, cringing before Fenrir wrapped his arm around Remus’ shoulders, sharp fingernails digging into his shoulder. “Did you get that firewood?”

Every nerve tingled where Fenrir touched him, his entire body on high-alert.

“It’s all where you asked me to put it,” Remus informed, trying to speak clearly like Fenrir was always going on about, but not powerfully like Fenrir hated.

“Good! And your chores?”

“Finished.”

Fenrir shook Remus’ shoulder playfully, but Remus felt the threat behind it. He felt the threat behind every touch he received, and there always was one.

Suddenly, Remus’ stomach grumbled again, and he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, waiting for whatever way Fenrir was going to lash out on him.

“Boy, have you not eaten today?”

Remus cracked open one of his eyes, his heart beating a mile a minute. “No.”

Every muscle in his body was tense, ready for whatever painful punishment he was about to receive.

“Well, why not? You’re going to need your strength for tonight.”

Remus’ heart dropped. He should have seen it coming with the Death Eaters joining them, and the way Fenrir was leading them to the fire where the Wolfpack was eating some sort of cooked animal from the last hunt.

He was to be entertainment tonight.

Remus ate up despite the way his stomach suddenly didn’t seem as keen on eating. Fenrir was right; he would need his strength that night. When the Death Eaters arrived, Remus was busy with setting up their tents, tending to their horses, and serving them food, so it was easy for him to keep his mind busy and not get nervous about later.

“Remus, start the fires,” Silas, Fenrir’s second in command, barked at him.

“Sir, I mean no offense, but won’t so many fires of this magnitude draw attention to our location?”

Remus didn’t know why he had asked the question. _Mouth_ _shut and head down_ , he reminded himself, but he was too curious. Discreetly, he took a step back from Silas who was known for keeping sharp knives on his person.

“We’re too far from anyone who could see us, and we have scouts in the forest,” Silas responded gruffly. Remus let out a sigh of relief for the lack of retaliation and set about making the fires.

Soon enough, black paint was spilling across the blue sky, and the full moon began to sketch bright streaks of light down, filtering through the trees. Nighttime had broken out, bringing with it a cold promise of long hours to come. When the fires were finished, Remus retreated to the edge of the campsite, finding himself backed against the shadows that remained untouched by the burning lights of the fires. He watched the night take hold of the pack, his back against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, leg propped up against the trunk. 

It started with a few drinks and some music, but pretty soon things were almost getting out of hand. They were partying like they had already won the war. He wondered if they were partying prematurely, but even Fenrir wasn’t stupid enough to celebrate a feat before it had been scored. Maybe this really was it. Maybe tomorrow they would march into Hogwarts and take the palace.

As it grew further into the night, and the Death Eaters became more and more drunk, Remus could tell Fenrir would call for him soon. The Death Eaters would grow bored of the roaring fires, music, and booze...eventually.

Remus knew he was right when he spotted Fenrir standing from the log he had been perched on, his eyes glowing yellow like a real wolf from the light of the fire. He gave him the look that Remus knew meant “come here”, and sat back down.

His legs were shaky as Remus made his way down, but he knew the forest floor well and climbed swiftly into the opening, ducking under branches, and climbing skillfully over fallen logs. There was an area being cleared in the middle of a large circle of Death Eaters and wolves, and Remus joined Fenrir in the center.

“Hand to hand or sword?” Remus asked, trying to get his head in the zone.

When Fenrir didn’t answer, Remus looked up at him. He had a terrifying smirk on his disgusting face, and his greasy hair was falling into his cold eyes.

“Hand to hand,” he hissed, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Remus nodded, and began wrapping his knuckles, swallowing the heartbeat that kept threatening to beat out of his chest. He didn’t want to see the opponent he would be facing. Remus was fast and a good fighter. That was why people liked watching the matches; because he always fared well in the beginning. He was smart and small enough that he could dodge around the guys he was against for a while, but that was it. He never won.

They were always too big, too strong, and too experienced. The audience just wanted to watch a longer fight, but the most exciting part for them was when the other guy would get one good swing in on Remus, and then it was all over.

When Remus was finished wrapping his knuckles, he turned around to see an enormous man entering the circle. Remus assumed he was a Death Eater since he didn’t recognize him. He had arms that looked twice the width of Remus’ body, and he towered a foot over his head. Remus scrambled back towards Fenrir, heart picking up more in his chest.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice sounding as terrified as he felt.

He felt a cold shove at his back, and Fenrir’s slurred voice behind him, egging him on. There was no way Remus would survive against this guy. He barely survived the others, and this guy was practically twice their size. He tried to step out of the ring, but there were people on every side of him now.

There was a heavy smoke in the air that was making Remus feel dizzy, and the chants of the audience reverberated around in his head painfully. Fenrir stepped into the center of the ring, his eyes flashing yellow, his sharpened teeth snarling at the chanting crowd.

“As a gift, we offer this match to the Death Eaters!” Fenrir howled into the night air. “To show our gratitude for the union formed between all of the most powerful gangs across the land, we invited Hugo to come and represent The Giants!”

Greyback’s words were met with thunderous applause, and Remus felt like he was definitely going to be sick. One punch from this Hugo guy, and Remus was done for.

“And to further our gift, we offer a worthy opponent. He’ll give Hugo a run for his money!”

As Fenrir motioned towards Remus, the crowd erupted in laughter, taking in Remus’ smaller frame. Fenrir joined them in their laughter and stepped back into the circle, disappearing among the many faces.

Hugo put his hands up in front of him and took a fighting stance. Remus tried to mimic him, feeling his dinner coming up from his stomach. There was a strange dark symbol on the man’s shirt, and his hair was intricately braided and pulled back at the nape of his neck. War paint dripped down his face below his eyes, and it looked suspiciously like blood.

It wasn’t like Remus was really that small. He was stronger than a lot of the guys in the Wolfpack even, but next to Hugo, Remus could be an ant.

His opponent made the first swing, which Remus ducked with easy agility. Remus landed a punch to Hugo’s throat, which sent him stumbling back a couple steps, but then he was coming at him again, arms swinging. He was predictable, but Remus didn’t know how far that would help him. The punch he had gotten in to Hugo’s throat had only destabilized him for a second, and it had made Remus’ knuckles burn.

His attacker lurched forward, trying to grab Remus around the waist, but Remus ducked and rolled under the guys arms, dirt flying up in his face. He landed a kick to the back of the giant’s leg, causing Hugo to lose his balance and fall down onto his knees.

The crowd roared and chanted around them, screaming things that Remus couldn’t latch onto with the amount of words being thrown at him. He tried to tune them out, jumping forward to wrap his arms around Hugo’s neck while Hugo stayed bent on all fours.

Remus thought that perhaps he really did have a chance. Hugo struggled beneath him, coughing as Remus’ arms tugged harder on Hugo’s meaty neck. Remus could feel every muscle in his body straining as he pulled, his legs planted steadily on the ground. He could hear Hugo snarling and gasping for breath as he twisted around into a sitting position, but Remus still didn’t let go.

He saw it before he had a chance to stop it. A flash of shining silver coming out from nowhere; the fire hitting it just right so that it sparkled in Remus’ eye for a second before it was being plunged right into Remus’ leg, dragging down and down.

His body reacted immediately. A loud guttural scream escaped his lips, and he let go of the giant, falling back against the ground. He tried to call him out, accuse him of cheating with a knife, but the crowd was roaring with excitement, screaming for Hugo to finish Remus off. They didn’t care how Hugo did it, as long as he did.

There was a dark red liquid escaping Remus’ leg, and it took him a second to realize that it was his own blood staining the forest floor. There were bright spots clouding his vision, and he blinked them away, using his hands to crawl backwards as Hugo approached him, snarl menacing and knife still in hand.

Hugo brought the knife down as he towered above him, and Remus found himself rolling away, dirt stinging his leg. He grimaced and held in another cry of pain. He wondered if this was it; if Hugo was going to kill him in front of all of these people. Would Fenrir let him?

He continued scurrying back, but he couldn’t escape fast enough, and soon Hugo was on top of him, trying to get a hold of Remus’ arms. Remus gave one last punch as hard as he could to Hugo’s wrist, and the knife went tumbling to the dirt away from them. It didn’t matter, though, because soon his hands were being restrained above him, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get away.

Had everything he had ever done really been for nothing? Was this how it ended, in front of a roaring crowd, all cheering for his death? Remus took in a shuddering breath, almost a sob, and did something he had never done before. Not when he was being kidnapped, not when he was being tortured by Greyback for his father’s mistake, and not during a fight.

He pleaded for his life.

“Please don’t,” he choked out. Hugo just laughed, a cruel horrible laugh, above him. 

A dirty fist came hurtling towards his face. One punch made Remus taste blood. Two punches made Remus see spots across his vision. Three punches made everything go black.

———

“We’ve got them where we want them, Your Highness.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Frank?” Sirius joked as he paced back and forth.

“Sorry, we’ve got them where we want them, _Sirius_.”

“Their scouts?”

“Taken care of.”

“Good. Everyone knows their locations?”

“I’ve been over it with them, Potter has too, dozens of times.”

“Okay. Okay.” Sirius was trying to reassure himself that this was going to go down right.

They had been tracking the Wolfpack for months, and never in a million years would he have thought they would have led them straight to the Death Eaters. And for Voldemort himself to be there too. This was their chance to extinguish this once and for all. Tonight _had_ to go well.

Sirius followed Frank out of the tent, swiping the map of the layout of the Wolfpack’s camp that they had made on a few spying missions.

“It’s go time!” Sirius called to his knights. James stood from where he was sharpening his knife, swiftly making his way to Sirius’ side. Sirius gratefully looked at him, offering a small smile, and turned back to his group of knights.

“We’ve been over the plan a thousand times. They don’t know we’re coming, and half of them are drunk off of their minds. The opening that they’re camping in is low ground, almost like a hole in the forest. All we need to do is stay unseen as we move to surround the camp from above. On my call, we attack. You know the signal—”

“When are we going to stop going over the plan, and start kicking some Death Eater asses!” Marlene called from the back, causing small bursts of laughter among Sirius’ knights and a series of cheers.

Sirius smirked and nodded, knowing she was right. “Yeah, yeah Marlene, I got it.” Sirius leaned in, ready to give his last word of advice before the ambush. “Stay sharp, fight strong, and for the love of Hogwarts, be brave.”

The knights erupted with whoops and applause, slapping each other’s backs as they began packing up camp. They made it out with plenty of time, and as they grew closer, there was a hush that fell over Sirius and his people.

They began separating, spreading out in a circle around the camp. There were large fires roaring everywhere he looked, which was perfect for them, so they could see better in the darkness. When Sirius got to his position, he and James laid down on their stomachs together, observing the camp below.

He had been wrong about half of them being drunk out of their minds. It looked like all of them were drunk out of their minds. There were Death Eaters and wolves dancing around, chanting drunkenly as they celebrated their upcoming “win”. Sirius chuckled softly, causing James to smile next to him, reading his mind like he so often did.

“See Greyback?” James asked, scanning the ground.

Sirius began scoping out the camp. Most of everyone were separated in different locations around the fires that were scattered around camp. It was hard to spot Voldemort or Fenrir among the large groups of people, especially with the shimmering lights of the fire making everything flicker.

“Think Greyback will be by Voldemort?” Sirius asked.

“Probably.”

It wasn’t until Greyback stood up that Sirius finally spotted him. It was strange how he had stood. He was looking off into the distance, his face shadowed with something stern looking.

“There,” James pointed even though Sirius had already seen him.

“What’s he looking at?”

Sirius followed Greyback’s gaze to a body that was moving swiftly over the forest floor from where it had come out of the shadows. Sirius’ stomach lurched. Were there more wolves in the forest? Frank had said all their scouts were taken care of.

As the body grew closer to the torches and bonfires of the camp, Sirius could see him better. He looked young, younger than most of the other Death Eaters and wolves. Judging by his clothes, Sirius would guess he was with the Wolfpack as opposed to the Death Eaters.

While the boy walked towards the group, a majority of the Death Eaters and wolves began making their way over to Greyback, forming a large circle.

“What the hell are they doing?” James asked, voicing exactly what Sirius was thinking.

Soon, the boy that Sirius had seen coming out of the forest walked to the center of the circle. Even from where Sirius sat above everything, he could see the tremble in the boy's step despite the careful measured way that he moved. Sirius’ eyes were drawn to another form that was entering the circle. There was a strange dark tattoo taking up his entire arm, and it took a second for him to place where he knew it from. He pictured the symbol painted on a scroll of notes written by scouts, and he remembered it belonged to members of the Giants; a criminalistic gang that controlled the Eastern Cape.

The Giants were like a different breed. Nothing but pure muscle, towering at least seven feet high. The boy who had been summoned by Greyback suddenly looked tiny next to the menacing man.

“No fucking way,” James muttered from besides Sirius.

“What?” Sirius asked, feeling slow.

“They’re going to make the wolf fight the giant.”

Sirius gasped, but suddenly it all made sense. He must not have come to the conclusion himself from how absurd it had seemed. This wasn’t a fair fight in the slightest, and he found himself already rooting for the wolf despite the fact that they were both Sirius’ enemy.

Suddenly, Greyback seemed to be calling to the crowd, but his voice was hidden behind the loud chanting of the Death Eaters and Wolves combined. He said something that made the whole crowd laugh and sneer, and it seemed to be directed at the boy who met them all back with an unwavering glare. Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“How is this even entertaining for them? It’s clearly an unfair match,” Sirius pointed out, watching with horror.

Sirius’ question was answered quickly after he asked it. The giant started with the first punch, and Sirius let out a small gasp even though he should have been expecting it, but then the boy ducked easily under it and quickly retaliated with a jab to the giant’s throat. Sirius caught himself leaning closer, as if a few inches could help him see better.

Sirius was so focused on the fight that he almost forgot the whole reason they were even there in the first place.

“Voldemort,” James whispered next to him.

Sirius tore his eyes away from the scene, focusing on where James had motioned. Voldemort was standing near a tent, close enough to see the fight, but far enough away that they could see him perfectly, his icy white skin shining like a target. Greyback had joined Voldemort at some point, and he was motioning wildly to the fight. Sirius shivered thinking about how this was causing Greyback joy to watch. He had set this up for Voldemort as entertainment.

As Sirius watched Greyback talking to Voldemort, a loud piercing scream rose up over the noise of the crowd, ringing around the forest and bouncing off of the trees in a chilling way. Sirius swore that some birds flew from the branches they were perched on up into the sky by the way the leaves were rustling around them. Sirius’ head flew back to the fight.

At first, he was confused. The boy seemed to have the giant in a choke hold, but then he was falling back onto the dirt, his leg sprawled out in front of him, and that’s when Sirius saw it. There was blood spilling from a wound on his leg, and as the boy scooted back in fear, the giant approached him, something shining between his fingers.

“Did he…?” James asked, his face looking disgusted. Sirius’ face probably mirrored the same horror.

Sirius nodded, and swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat as the crowd screamed and cheered excitedly for the giant. His eyes scanned the circle around the camp, trying to see if he could spot Lily where she should have been perched, ready to fire.

“Why doesn’t Lily take the shot?” Sirius asked, somewhat urgently. He had found himself hoping their ambush would interrupt the fight.

“From where Lily is, Voldemort would be behind Greyback. She can’t risk her arrow missing,” James whispered.

Sirius nodded, clutching his sword so tight in his hand that his palm started to hurt. Lily was their best shooter, and Sirius didn’t doubt her for a second. Once her arrow went through Voldemort, that was the signal for the rest of the knights to proceed, and Sirius waited eagerly for it. He hoped that James was watching Voldemort because he found his eyes continuously being drawn back to the fight.

The boy was now on his back, his huge opponent above him. They struggled for what felt like forever even though it was just a few seconds, and Sirius wondered how the wolf was going to get out of it. He had been so fast earlier, always seeming to have an out to whatever the giant threw at him, but now Sirius didn’t think there was a way out.

The crowd seemed to have grown a bit quieter from the anticipation of the fight coming to an end, and two words echoed up above the noise to where he was perched.

“Please don’t,” the boy had gasped, and it sounded like those words caused him more pain to say than the physical pain he was in. A cold laugh from the giant followed, making Sirius’ stomach churn.

The sound of the giant’s fist meeting the boy’s face could be heard even above the audience’s chanting. The first punch, the boy had cried out an agonizing scream that Sirius never thought he would be able to forget. The giant hit him four more times after that, and he was silent through them all, hopefully knocked out.

“That’s enough!” Greyback called from where he was standing next to Voldemort.

 _Move,_ Sirius pleaded in his head. _Please move._

“I’ll have nobody to do my laundry if you kill him!” Greyback joked, causing a chorus of laughter from the others.

That was an odd comment, Sirius thought. Was the wolf Greyback’s servant? If so, why was he so good at fighting, and why was he doing it for entertainment?

The giant stood up, leaving the boy in a puddle on the ground.

And then everything slowed down as Greyback stepped forward to join his people. For a few golden seconds, Voldemort stood alone, right there in the center of camp. Sirius almost missed it. In a matter of seconds, an arrow came hurtling out of the darkness, piercing Voldemort so that he dropped dead on the ground.

Sirius felt himself lurching forward from out of the darkness, James at his side. Everywhere he looked, knights were running out of the shadows, swords in hands. Their enemies were all still confined in one circle, making it almost easy to strike them down.

“It’s an ambush!” some yelled. “Run for the woods!” others called.

Sirius paid no attention to them. He ran straight for the giant he had watched mercilessly beating the boy who was laying limp on the floor next to him, and Sirius drove his sword right through his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

It felt strange being back in the palace after so many months trailing the Wolfpack. The first thing Sirius had done was take a long hot bath, scrubbing away the dirt that bathing in a lake could not succeed in vanquishing. After the bath, Sirius had spent hours writing reports and reviewing old ones that he had written on the journey. After his bath and reports, Sirius spent the day interrogating and questioning those who had surrendered during their ambush to crack down on the locations of any remaining supporters of Voldemort.

He would have thought that after so long of sleeping in the forest, away from his huge cushy bed and fluffy pillows, he would have been more tired. But instead, there was something that kept Sirius awake late into the night.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the boy that night in the forest as he trembled in anticipation before the fight, and even more daunting, he could see the boy holding up his fists to fight back anyways. The scent of the heavy smoke from the fires still clogged his nose every time he remembered the ambush, and the sound of the boy’s broken screams filled his head.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Sirius had seen many terrible things over the course of his life; this shouldn’t be any different. Maybe it was because once he had gotten close enough, he could see that the boy looked the same age as Sirius. Maybe it was because beneath the blood, bruising, and scars on his face, his cheeks were littered with gorgeous freckles, and his hair was curling softly around his ears. He looked, well, innocent.

After Sirius had killed the giant, he knelt down next to the boy, placing his fingers against his pulse just to make sure. When he felt it fluttering against his fingers, Sirius tore off his sleeve, wrapping it tightly around the boy’s leg that had been continuously bleeding. He stood up, turning back to resume the battle, but the image of the young wolf laying there so still with skin paling increasingly made Sirius bend down once more. As carefully as possible, Sirius dragged the boy into the cover of the trees, hoping he would be safe until the end of the battle. Without thinking, Sirius brushed the boy's hair back out of his face before running back towards the camp.

He fought harder than he ever had before and wouldn’t admit to himself that it was because he was worried that by the time the battle was over, there would no longer be a pulse beating against the boy’s neck.

When it was over, Sirius could still remember stumbling around the camp, checking on all of his knights. There had been few but heavy losses that night, and they still haunted Sirius. Every knight lost always haunted Sirius. 

He had then raced to where he remembered dragging the boy into the cover of the forest, practically bruising his knees from how quickly he sat down. He lifted the boy's dirt-painted head onto his lap as he pressed his fingers to his neck. A surprising and very deep relief flooded through his body as a soft pulse fluttered against his fingertips. He stood up, carefully hoisting the boy into his arms, ignoring the blood and sweat that covered his body.

There was a medical tent set up at the corner of camp, and Dorcas looked up with surprise when she spotted Sirius with the boy cradled in his arms. There were other healers bustling around inside the tent, and Sirius tried to stay out of their way even though they were doing the same for him, their hands stilling momentarily at the arrival of the royal prince.

“That’s a wolf,” Dorcas stated, motioning towards the boy in his arms like Sirius didn’t already know.

“I know, but I need this one alive,” Sirius said.

Dorcas hadn’t questioned it. He was thankful that she hadn’t questioned it. She just nodded and pointed at a cot in the corner of the huge tent. Sirius placed the boy down carefully, ignoring the questioning gaze that Dorcas was giving him.

“His leg was cut badly, and he’s been given heavy trauma to the head,” Sirius informed, stepping back to watch Dorcas work.

Dorcas nodded and called Mary over to help her. She started immediately on unwrapping Sirius’ poorly-done sleeve bandage and cleaned the cut with a quick efficiency, never once faltering at the sight of the deep bloody wound.

“Sire?” Dorcas asked as she continued.

“Yes?” Sirius responded, hating the label.

“Did you happen to maybe see—”

“Marlene is fine; I saw her before I arrived here,” Sirius reassured.

Dorcas let out a breath and nodded, continuing back to her work. Eventually, Sirius could tell he was annoying Dorcas with the way he was carefully watching her, so he reluctantly turned to leave. He knew that as the prince, he needed to go be with his recovering knights and help with the chaos around him, but something was holding him back. He shook it off, heading towards the tent entrance.

“Umm, Dorcas?” he said before he could leave.

“Yeah?” she sighed, pausing momentarily.

“Please keep him alive.”

Dorcas looked taken aback by the request, but nodded in a determined manner. “I will.”

And she had. The boy made it all the way back to Hogwarts with them.

Sirius had carried him out of the tent as his knights prepared for the journey back home. There was still smoke trailing in the sky from the bodies they had burned to ashes, emptying the clearing of the bloody remains of the battle that had taken place there.

People bustled around, saddling up their horses, or making sure those who had surrendered were tied up well. Sirius spotted Lily passing a cup of tea to a shivering girl on the ground; a servant who had been captured by the Death Eaters and forced to work for them, Sirius found out.

Some of his knights turned to Sirius as he walked towards his horse, and he could tell by the faces they were making that a couple recognized the boy in his arms from the fight they had all witnessed from their places in the shadows. Sirius wondered if they could all still hear the boy’s piercing scream in the air like he could.

“Sirius,” James said when he saw him.

Sirius didn’t turn around from where he was carefully setting the boy onto his horse.

“Don’t tell me not to take him back because you can’t change my mind.”

James smirked at Sirius. “I was going to say that if your horse gets tired, we can trade off.”

Sirius smiled at James, thankful that they were always on the same page. Thankful that he would always have a friend to back him up no matter how crazy his choices seemed. He had no reason to save this boy. For all he knew, he would try to kill Sirius the minute he woke up just like all the other Wolves would do, but Sirius didn’t think he would, and James didn’t either.

The boy stayed unconscious the whole way back. Sirius was secretly glad that he hadn’t woken up on the trip because he didn’t know what he would have done, but now that he had been back in the palace for a night, and the boy still hadn’t woken up, Sirius was starting to get anxious.

The staff had been startled to say the least when the crowned prince placed a dirt-and-blood-covered wolf onto their pristine white beds, asking them to keep him alive, and to alert Sirius when he woke up. They weren’t brave enough to ask about it.

Since Sirius had given the boy over to the healers, the wolf had been cleaned by someone, and his dirty clothes had been thrown out. His new appearance didn’t fit well with the images Sirius had of the boy fighting with blood, dirt, and sweat coating his person, in the middle of a circle of chanting criminals.

Whatever time Sirius had between interrogating Greyback and some of the others, writing reports of their travels, and speaking with his parents, he spent sitting with the unconscious wolf.

The boy’s hand was cuffed onto the bedpost as Sirius watched him carefully. He was still a risk to Sirius and the staff as long as they knew nothing about him, and Sirius needed to be careful no matter how much he strangely trusted him.

Now that the boy was clean, Sirius could see that he was very handsome despite the scars that traveled down his face and throat, and the dark blackish-purple bruises that had formed over the places he had been punched.

He had honey brown hair that looked probably soft, and it curled at the top of his head. He was skinnier than Sirius, but obviously muscled like he was strong but malnourished. Sirius pictured the punch that the boy had sent at the giant’s throat. Definitely strong. His sun-kissed freckles were more prominent now on his clean face, and Sirius had a very strange urge to brush his fingers along them, which made him feel weird. He tried to ignore the urge.

As he sat there, Sirius began to wonder why he couldn’t let this go. It was just some boy he had seen in the forest. He didn’t even know his name, and for some reason he was here, worrying about him. Sirius knew it was strange, but he also knew that he couldn’t do anything about it.

A day later, Dorcas came running towards him in the large palace hallway, sweat glistening off of her dark skin like she had run all the way there. She was panting, and her eyes looked excited.

“What is it?” Sirius asked, not allowing himself to have hope.

“It’s the boy,” Dorcas panted. “He’s awake.”

———

The first thing that registered to Remus was a searing pain in his leg. He sucked in a breath, biting his lip to distract himself from the pain. The next thing he noticed was the piercing headache he had. It pounded insistently at his temples, and Remus didn’t think that he had ever had a headache this bad before.

Remus tried to crack his eyes open, but they wouldn’t obey his command. For a second, Remus began to panic. If he listened carefully enough, he could hear the faint sound of someone walking around far away. Remus wondered what time it was, and if Fenrir had noticed that he hadn’t gotten to his chores yet. The thought made him even more panicked that he couldn’t open his eyes.

There was nothing he could do, though. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t do it, and his body seemed just as unresponsive. He didn’t know how long he laid there for, but the longer he waited, the more things started to come back to him.

The fight took Remus the longest to remember, and it hurt his head more than it already did imagining the sharp pain he had felt every time Hugo had sent a hurtling fist against his body. No wonder Remus felt so terrible.

Remembering the fight surprisingly helped Remus relax. Fenrir was probably giving him a day to heal before he would be forced back to work like he had done in the past. With that comfort in mind, Remus found himself drifting in and out of sleep, in a state where he was no longer thinking or remembering.

He didn’t know how many times he had woken from his patchy sleep just to go back under, but after the long period of haziness, Remus finally felt one of his eyes cracking open. It was a terrible idea. Light flooded into his vision, making it feel like someone was setting Remus’ brain on fire.

Remus groaned and went to clutch his head in his hands, but there was something cold around his wrist holding him back. He tugged his hand forward again, but with no luck.

“He’s waking up,” an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere in front of him, which was strange because Remus usually recognized all the wolves’ voices. Maybe they were still with the Death Eaters.

“Somebody alert His Royal Highness,” the same voice said.

 _What?_ Remus thought, but he was too tired and in too much pain to try and comprehend the sentence.

Remus felt his heartbeat beating quicker in his chest, and he tried to sit up. A searing pain filled his body, but he struggled through it, panic rising in his stomach. His whole body was aching, and he still couldn’t see anything. A weight—probably a hand—fell onto his shoulder, pushing him back down, and Remus retracted from it like it had been a burning hot iron. He groaned again as another sharp pain shot through his head.

The sound of loud footsteps made Remus’ pulse pick up again, and he felt fear creeping into his head. What was wrong with him? This was it. He was going to be beaten for sure, and he couldn’t even open his eyes to do anything about it.

The footsteps came to an end, and Remus noted how strange it was that they sounded so loud, nothing like the sound of feet on the ground in the woods.

“I thought you said he was waking up,” a new voice said, this one much lower.

“He was a second ago. Groaned a few times, and tried to sit up. I pushed him back down, but the second I touched him, he flew back like he had been burned. Now he’s not stirring.”

“Okay, you can leave us now.”

“But, sir—”

“I said leave.”

Remus didn’t understand a word that was being said around him. He tried to focus on the sound of his breathing. That helped a bit. It was grounding. The pain in Remus’ head receded a bit, and Remus thought maybe he would be able to open his eyes now. He cracked them open slower this time, trying to let in the light gradually.

As colors and objects came into view around him, Remus realized that something was even more off than he had thought. He was in a _room_. One with walls, and floors, and a ceiling. Remus didn’t know when the last time he had been in a room was. Maybe the time he had accompanied Greyback to the mansion that one of the Death Eater’s meetings had been held at a few years ago.

Remus was in some sort of small bed. He was wearing strange black pants that felt too soft on his skin, and in place of a shirt, there were white bandages wrapped neatly around his ribs. Remus trailed his eyes up to his arm. It was stretched out above him, a cuff around his wrist to keep him attached to the bed post. Remus eyed it skeptically.

“Sorry about that,” the low voice he had heard earlier said. “Just a precaution.”

Remus jumped at the sound and tried to find a face to attach the voice to in the midst of his haze. His eyes landed on a boy around his age, standing a few feet away from the bed. The boy had black hair that stood out against his pale skin. It was long enough that he had it swished back, curling at the nape of his neck. Remus analyzed him, trying to judge how hard it would be to fight him if he could get free from the handcuff on his wrist.

The boy looked bigger than Remus, taller too, but that didn’t mean he was a better fighter. Remus had learned quickly that strength wasn’t always everything. Despite the boy’s broad shoulders and big arms, his face was slim, all sharp and narrow angles that Remus quite liked.

“Where am I?” he felt himself asking. His voice was rough and cracked, and he tried to clear his throat. His mouth hurt when he spoke, and he wondered if he had split his lip. 

The dark-haired boy took a breath and looked around the room like he was avoiding the question. After a moment, he looked back at Remus and sighed. “You’re at the palace in Hogwarts. We’re in the hospital wing right now.

Remus sat up slowly with the revelation, scooting so that his back was against the wall. He wanted to ask more questions, but he was already kicking himself for the first one. He wasn’t exactly in the position to be asking questions, especially with the cuff keeping him locked against the bed.

His head hurt with the effort that it took to come up with a reason as to why they were in the palace. Had they gone through with the siege while Remus had been knocked out from the fight? If that was the case, who was this boy, and why was Remus being restrained?

The boy standing away from Remus was watching him with careful dark gray eyes, and Remus couldn’t look away from them. They were nothing like the eyes of the people Remus had been around for eleven years. Everyone he was used to had empty gazes, like there was nothing going on behind them, but somehow this boy in front of him had eyes that swam with so many layers of feelings that it was dizzying.

“Aren’t you going to ask who I am?” the stranger asked.

“If you want me to ask who you are, then sure,” Remus replied carefully, every muscle in his body tensing up in preparation for whatever was about to happen.

The dark-haired boy cocked his head at Remus and narrowed his eyes. “My name’s Sirius.”

Something in Remus’ pounding head clicked in place. He remembered a woman’s voice instructing someone to get the Royal Highness. He remembered the photos he had seen of the Black family; all with black hair and pale skin. Most of all, he remembered the name _Sirius_ being spoken so many times that there was no way that he could forget. Of course, it had never been said the way that Sirius had just said it; calmly and with ease. Usually, Remus heard it being spat out, or followed by a few curse words. Only ever did he hear the name followed by its famous surname: Black.

“So, you’re going to torture me for information?” Remus asked, his voice not exactly sounding unsteady for the accusation he had given.

Remus watched as Sirius’ eyes widened in shock and slowly crinkled on the sides as he let out a carefree laugh. Remus hadn’t heard a laugh like that since he was a little boy.

“Of course not, why would you think that?”

Remus tugged his hand forward, the chain clanking loudly together as he shook it to prove his point. He didn’t trust Sirius’ innocent act. There was no doubt in his mind that this was part of his tactic to get Remus to lower his guard, but he had learned not to trust people, no matter how kind they seemed. Everyone always wanted something.

“I apologize for that. It’s the only way we could keep you here to heal without risking you, well, getting up and killing someone.”

Remus didn’t really know how to react to the statement. He didn’t know why Sirius was apologizing in the first place. What was he supposed to say to that? He wasn’t planning on killing anybody. Not if he didn’t have to. He opted with not responding.

Sirius cleared his throat and chuckled awkwardly. “I never learned your name.”

“It’s Remus,” he answered, only because he figured talking was the best way to get out of whatever pain Sirius had planned for him. If Sirius wanted him to talk, he would sing like a bird. He had no loyalty to the Wolfpack, and the only thing he cared about was surviving.

“Remus, nice to meet you,” Sirius said, sounding ever the prince, and he held his hand out for a handshake.

Instantly, Remus felt his entire body flinch back, and his heartbeat began to race, a deep sense of fear pitting itself in his stomach. _That’s_ _new_ , Remus thought as he tried to calm his racing heart. If he had flinched like that with Greyback, he would have been punched.

Sirius’ face filled with regret and worry, and he took a step back, dropping his hand to his side quickly.

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time.

Remus couldn’t hide the startled look that must have crossed his face. Why was Sirius apologizing again? He was the one with all the power at the moment. Sirius also grew a confused face, but he wiped it away quickly, his face suddenly becoming serious. _Here it comes,_ Remus thought.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Remus?”

It was strange how Sirius said his name. It was similar to how Peter used to say it, lacking malice, but there was something much softer about it, and of course, Sirius’ voice was much nicer than Peter’s had been. It was low and warm, every word sounding measured and practiced. There was an opulence to the way his vowels lilted nicely, lifting like a melody at the end of his words. He sounded how Remus imagined a prince would sound, but without the haughty indifferent tone. Remus had to remind himself not to fall for it.

Remus didn’t know how to respond to the question. He didn’t know how he had gotten into this mess in the first place. Was he supposed to remember the battle in Hogwarts? The last thing he could recall was the fight, but Sirius wouldn’t understand what he was talking about if he mentioned that.

He risked asking a question because if Sirius really was trying to play the kind prince to get answers, he probably wouldn’t blow the act so soon. “Was I captured after the siege?”

Sirius looked puzzled for a second, but then recognition dawned on his face. “The siege never took place. My men and I attacked the night before in the forest, and the survivors and people who surrendered were all taken back here.”

Remus was shocked Sirius would give him so much information. Everything about this situation had him tense. Sirius must have sensed how on edge Remus was because he leaned forward a little with what had to be fake worry in his eyes.

“I know this is all a lot to take in, but I can assure you that you’re perfectly safe now.”

Sirius said ‘now’ like he knew that Remus wasn’t safe before this. He guessed that he sort of had to know if he saw how injured Remus was and how he tensed up every time Sirius so much as moved slightly. Maybe if he cooperated, there would be a chance for him to escape.

“I remember being in the forest, but I was knocked out before you arrived,” Remus answered Sirius’ earlier question.

“Yes, I saw that. We attacked only a moment after.”

Remus wondered what Sirius meant about him seeing it, but he pushed his question down, instead asking, “Why wasn’t I killed then? Or left to die?”

Something like surprise flashed across Sirius’ telling eyes. “Can I ask what position you had with the Wolfpack?”

Remus wanted to laugh at how Sirius had worded the phrase. He was really pushing this kind guy act. As if he actually had a choice to answer the question. Luckily for Sirius, Remus didn’t care about withholding information from him.

“Whether you believe it or not, you aren’t going to get much information out of me. I was taken by Greyback when I was young and raised as basically a servant. I was usually the last person that news came around to.”

Sirius nodded his head knowingly, which surprised Remus. Did he really believe him? Just like that?

“I assumed that was the case,” Sirius replied. “The Death Eaters had a fair number of servants, all of which have been questioned already. Many were captured at young ages and forced into work like you. We tried to save as many innocents as possible, and some of them have already been returned home. From the fight we watched, we thought you might have been a servant also, but we weren’t sure.”

Remus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He hadn’t known that the Death Eaters had taken people like him. He nodded slowly, not knowing what to say next.

“I have a couple more questions to ask if you don’t mind,” Sirius voiced.

This was by far the weirdest interrogation Remus had ever been a part of, but Remus only tipped his head in acknowledgment to go on.

“Do you know a Peter Pettigrew?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at Sirius. Peter was the last person Remus would have thought Sirius would have asked about.

“Yeah, I knew him better than most of the other Wolves actually.”

“Because he was a servant like you?” Sirius supplied.

“Oh gods no. He'd probably off himself if he had to be as low ranking as I was.”

Sirius’ eyes clouded over in confusion, and his features pulled tight across his face. “So... he was of high status?”

“Not exactly. Peter used to live in Hogwarts in the upper parts of town. At least that’s what I’ve heard. He was friends with some nobles or knights. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. He sold them out. They were planning a trip to a neighboring kingdom and trusted Peter with their location, but for as long as I’ve known Peter, he’d do anything to be a wolf. He offered up their information to Silas and Greyback in exchange for a position.”

Sirius suddenly gasped, one of his hands flying up to cover his face.

Remus flinched, hitting his back against the bed painfully as he tried to scoot further away from Sirius. Even as he was doing it, he knew it was unusual for him, but he couldn’t help his body’s instinct to get anywhere else away from Sirius. Something he said had obviously made Sirius upset, and he realized he wasn’t ready for any more pain yet. His leg was still shooting pain all over his body, and his head was still throbbing.

Sirius froze from where he was standing and reached his hands out as if to ease him, instantly retreating them when Remus sat up even stiffer.

“Sorry, Remus. I told you, you’re safe here.” Remus thought he saw genuine worry behind Sirius’ eyes like he actually felt sorry for startling Remus, but he had to remind himself that it wasn’t real. This was just an act. “I was just surprised that’s all. Peter’s friends, the ones you said he ratted out. Do you remember their names?” Sirius asked.

Remus tried to calm his racing heart and recall past conversations that he had overheard. After a moment, he shook his head softly, hoping his lack of answer wouldn’t cost him something. “Maybe if I heard them.”

“Does the name James sound familiar?”

The name jogged a memory in Remus’ mind, resurfacing another name too, and he nodded his head as much as he could with his headache. “Yes, that’s right. And the other was Lily.”

Sirius nodded and began to pace back and forth on the other side of the room. Remus was glad for the distance between them, and he tried to relax his shoulders.

“I had a suspicion that Peter had lied about being a servant, but this is so much worse,” Sirius muttered to himself.

So, Peter had lied and tried taking Remus’ story in order to be set free. Despite how cowardly it was, Remus had to hand it to him; it was pretty clever. Remus suddenly felt a bit bad for giving Peter away, but the guilt vanished quickly. He was doing what he had to do to get on Sirius’ good side, and it wasn’t like Peter was a good person anyways.

Sirius suddenly turned back to face Remus. “They escaped, you know? Lily and James. They’re my knights still, but it had been close.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“When were you captured, Remus?” Sirius asked, changing the subject again. Remus wondered if Sirius’ mind always worked this fast.

“Eleven years ago. I was six years old.”

Remus had tried really hard not to flinch this time when Sirius’ face grew startled, but Sirius had burst out a loud, “What?” And his fists had clenched at his sides, which sent every nerve in Remus’ body preparing for the pain he was so used to whenever someone’s fists clenched in front of him. Sirius followed Remus’ gaze down to his clenched fists, and quickly loosened them, eyeing Remus carefully.

 _Calm down. What is wrong with you?_ Remus told himself, taking in a careful breath. _If you play this right, you might get away without any serious damage done._

“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius apologized, his face growing even more worried. “I don’t mean to keep startling you, honest. It’s just, _you_ startled me. They actually took you at that young of age?”

Remus nodded, not finding it in himself to speak.

“But what good would a six-year-old do? How could you even be of use?”

“I was small. My hands fit into little places. I was so young that people trusted me. Good for thieving. Besides, Greyback took me because he had a quarrel with my father.” Remus bit his tongue but couldn’t hold his question back. “How old were the Death Eater servants you mentioned? When they got captured?”

“Most of them were around thirteen or fourteen, some a bit older.”

Remus shifted uncomfortably where he sat as Sirius gazed at him. Sirius had an unsettling contrast about him that had Remus disoriented. His stare matched his eyes, heavy and clouded, a gray mist like falling rain on a stormy ocean. His sharp and angled face matched perfectly with the rest of the Black household, regal yet calculating.

Except that there was something very different about Sirius than the pictures Remus had seen of his relatives. His dark eyes had a sparkling light tucked away and reserved for when he laughed. His sharp features were also paired with a dimple that took hold when they tugged into a smile, and his manor held an air of fun-loving mischief. Sirius was a contradiction in himself, and Remus found himself intrigued whereas never before had he cared so much about figuring someone out.

“You mentioned a Silas. Would you be able to tell me about him?” Sirius asked.

This was where things started to get dangerous for Remus. Giving up Peter’s secrets was harmless, but if there was any possibility that Silas, Greyback, or even Voldemort himself could get to Remus after he had given them away, Remus didn’t know what they would do to him.

“What exactly did you do with the Wolves who surrendered or you captured?” Remus countered.

Sirius’ features softened considerably as realization dawned on him. “Don’t worry. Greyback is in our dungeons locked away as we speak. He can’t get to you.”

Remus didn’t like how easily Sirius was reading him. He cleared his throat. “What about Voldemort and Silas?”

“Voldemort is dead, and I was hoping you would be able to identify Silas for me. We don’t have a definite description of him yet. We have who we assume is him in our dungeons, but he won’t talk.”

Remus had to steel himself at the news that Voldemort was dead. Was that really possible? Before Remus had passed out, Voldemort had been alive and well, about to take hold of Gryffindor. After Remus had woken up, Voldemort was gone, Greyback was in custody, and Remus was in a hospital bed having a conversation with the prince of Hogwarts.

After a shaky breath, Remus decided to go for it. He just had to trust that Sirius was right, and Greyback wasn’t going to escape. “Silas is about my height and a tad younger than Greyback. He has grayish brown hair and dark brown eyes.”

Sirius nodded along. “Sounds about right. Any definable features you can think of?”

A smirk brought itself to Remus’ lips as a memory came forth. “He has a scar about three inches long on the front of his right shoulder.”

When Remus was a couple years younger, Silas injured the partner he had been practicing dueling with so badly that he was out for weeks. Greyback assigned Remus as replacement. Remus didn’t exactly know what he was supposed to do. Usually when he trained with the others, it didn’t matter if he got a couple swipes in. It was sort of the point, but with Silas, Remus didn’t know what he would do to Remus if Remus hurt him.

It had been a long day of chores, and Silas was growing angrier as Remus held back while they were sparring. Remus couldn’t imagine what Silas would do to him if he got even one swipe in, but it was becoming more apparent that it might be worse if Remus didn’t challenge him.

They were knife fighting; that was Silas’ strong suit. It was after Silas had shouted, “You fight like your father! No wonder he was so easy to kill,” and something inside Remus snapped.

He flipped his knife around his fingers deftly, dodged Silas’ advance, and swiped quickly up and across his shoulder. He could still remember the deep red of Silas’ blood as it stained his shirt.

“You didn’t... did you give him the scar?” Sirius asked tentatively, weighing the smirk on Remus’ face.

Remus nodded, and wiped away his expression. “Cost me some of my own,” he responded, pointing to the light trail that lead down the side of his face on his cheek.

Sirius tipped his head, eyeing the scar, his expression darkening.

Remus heard the footsteps coming down the hall before they even knocked, and he rose his head, eyeing the door carefully. Sirius looked at him confused, and when the knock came, his face grew even more puzzled at what he probably thought was strange precognition, but was really just Remus’ incredible hearing.

A woman who Remus assumed was the royal physician, judging by her clothes, peaked her head in through the door.

“Your Highness, I’m sorry, but the boy received a lot of damage to the head.”

“Right, of course,” Sirius responded, sounding more like a prince now than he had during their conversation. For a moment, Remus had actually forgotten that he even was the prince.

The woman approached Remus, and Remus found himself leaning away from her. She had a friendly enough face, but Remus had learned not to trust people who said they were healing him up. Not after that one time.

She stopped in front of him, either oblivious to Remus’ discomfort or ignoring it. Remus could see Sirius watching from the corner of the room, his hands on his hips, and his shoulders tense. Remus looked away.

“I’m Madame Pomfrey,” she said. “I’m just going to run a couple tests, okay?”

Remus didn’t answer.

“Can you follow my finger with your eyes please, dear. “

Remus did as he was told and sat still as the woman looked into both of his eyes.

“What’s your full name?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at the physician.

“Standard concussion tests,” the woman responded.

“Remus John Lupin.”

“When’s your birthday?”

Remus thought about that one. It wasn’t the concussion that was keeping the memory from him. It was the fact that the last time he had even thought about his birthday was when he was only six years old.

“I’m not sure.” Both Pomfrey and Sirius looked at him worriedly, so Remus rushed to finish his sentence. “But it’s not because of the concussion. I was six the last time I celebrated it, and I haven’t known what date it was for a while.”

Pomfrey nodded, and continued, asking Remus more basic questions and going through some more tests. Sirius tucked his arms around his abdomen and looked to the ground in thought.

“Are you feeling any pain?” Pomfrey asked.

“Yes,” Remus said.

“Where?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at her. Was this their way of finding where he was the weakest? He eyed Sirius who had looked up again and was watching him so intently that there couldn’t possibly be another explanation.

“Is this a trick question?” Remus asked.

Pomfrey stepped back from Remus for a second, eyeing him up and down. “No, It’s not a trick question. I can’t do my job if I don’t know what needs care.”

Remus could have pointed out a number of things. His ribs were burning, his leg was stinging, his head was aching, and on top of all of that, he felt like he was going to throw up, but he chose not to say anything.

Pomfrey sighed at Remus’ lack of response. “Are you nauseous?”

Remus thought about if it would be safe to answer that question. He didn’t exactly see how they could use that to their advantage, so he replied, “Yes.”

“Okay, that’s a side-effect of the concussion that you’re sporting. You might also have a headache, ringing in your ears, blurry vision, or fatigue.”

Remus nodded. He felt all of those things.

“What about your leg?” Pomfrey asked, reaching out towards it.

Remus pulled it away quickly, ignoring the way it sent spots across his vision. He masked his face into a careful emotionless expression before he could reveal how much pain moving it had cost him.

“It feels fine,” Remus lied. If they knew how bad his leg was hurting, he was done for. One punch there, and Remus could kiss his chances of escaping goodbye.

Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t push it. Remus suffered through her re-bandaging it, and when she finally left, Remus fell back onto the mattress, breathing in long shallow breaths. Every breath he took in sent pain through his chest because of how bad his ribs hurt, and his face was hurting from talking.

“I’ll give you some time to sleep before I’ll need to ask more questions,” Sirius said, but Remus was already drifting off in a state of exhaustion that Remus hadn’t even realized was there.

He tried not to think about how he had just fallen asleep completely unguarded, but for some reason his gut was telling him that it was okay. He hated that Sirius was acting so trustworthy. He hated that Remus was falling for it.


	3. Chapter 3

Once Pomfrey was done checking Remus, Sirius saw the exhaustion on Remus’ face even though it looked like he was trying to mask it. He fell asleep soon after Sirius told him to, and Sirius couldn’t help but stand there for a second more.

Sirius realized that Remus looked entirely different while he was sleeping than he did awake. The moment Remus had woken up, his entire body was tense, and his face was masked carefully as he spoke to Sirius. Now, Remus looked relaxed and less tense, his face calm as he breathed in and out.

Once Sirius left, the first thing he did was head for the knights' quarters. He found James’ room almost immediately from the countless times he had gone there to see his best friend. He knew James was off duty, and James swung the door open after Sirius knocked two short knocks.

“Hey, Padfoot,” he said brightly, followed by, “Woah, what’s wrong?”

“Do you know a Peter Pettigrew?” Sirius asked.

James' face grew clouded, and he took in a deep breath, swinging his door open wider for Sirius to enter.

“Peter was my old friend from the village. The one who ratted me out to the Wolfpack,” he said with a heavy voice. “Why?”

“He’s been with them this whole time. Supposedly, he sold you guys out for a chance to join them.”

James swallowed tightly, and his eyes dropped to the floor. “How do you know this?”

“The boy from the fight woke up today. Turns out that he _was_ captured to be a servant. Peter had told interrogators that he was captured too, but Remus told me that wasn’t true.”

“Remus?” James asked.

“That’s the boy’s name.” James nodded, so Sirius continued. “You didn’t see Peter on the journey back? Lily didn’t either?”

“I don’t know, it’s been a few years, and last I saw Peter, he was living well-groomed in the village, not with the Pack in the forest. If I did see him, I didn’t recognize him.” James stopped to think for a second, and then asked, “If Peter lied about being a servant, couldn’t Remus be lying too?”

“He knew Lily’s name, and he told the truth about Peter. Besides, I don’t even know if he would have it in him to lie so well. He just woke up, and he’s got a pretty bad concussion. It’ll take time.”

James sighed and ran his hand through his unruly dark hair. “So what are you going to do to Pettigrew?”

“Keep him in the dungeons,” Sirius answered quickly. “He can rot away for all I care.”

James nodded, not looking opposed to the idea. “So, what was the wolf, er, Remus like?”

Sirius laughed humorlessly. “He was so jumpy, Prongs. You should have seen him. I’ve never seen someone sit so tense for so long. Every time I even moved, he flinched backwards like he thought I was going to hit him or something,” Sirius could hear how disgusted by the Wolves his voice sounded, but he didn’t care. “It makes me sick, you know? He was with them for _eleven_ years.”

“Seriously? Do you think it could have been an act?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. It seemed like he was trying to calm himself down. I think he was afraid that even showing that he was scared was going to be bad for him. He lied to Pomfrey too, tried to make it seem like he wasn’t in any pain, but his leg has got to be throbbing despite the medicine Pomfrey’s been giving him.”

James listened with focused attention, taking his time to think about Sirius’ words. “I don’t blame him for being so jumpy. He probably hasn’t had a touch without ill-intent since he was taken.”

James’ words caught Sirius off guard, but the more and more he thought about it, the more he realized that it probably was true. He couldn’t imagine living like that. Sirius practically lived off of touches. James’ playful pats on the back, Lily’s gentle hugs, Marlene’s harmless punches to the shoulder. He thrived around human contact, and the thought that so many people had used touch as a punishment against Remus made his stomach hurt.

Sirius was already anxious for the next time he would be able to speak with Remus. He wanted to know more about him. So much more. He wanted to prove to the boy that he wasn’t going to hurt him, that there were good people out there. He wanted to show him that people could _want_ to be around him. He wanted so much.

James and Sirius talked a little bit longer. Sirius double checked to make sure James was okay after the news he had been given, and after James' reassurances, Sirius walked swiftly down to the dungeons, his feet carrying him to the cell that Fenrir Greyback was sitting in.

He was in the middle of an interrogation, and Sirius sat down, listening carefully to the knight who was speaking with him. Greyback had been in this room talking with different guards, including Sirius, ever since he had gotten there.

Greyback didn’t want to talk, but slowly, they were getting more information out of him, picking things apart by his manic mumbling and crazed outbursts. Sirius sat for a while, just listening, but eventually he ushered the knight outside.

“Ask him about a Peter Pettigrew,” Sirius instructed.

The knight nodded and cleared her throat. “Anything else?”

“If he doesn’t say anything, tell him that Peter’s told us he was just a servant for the Pack, and we’re planning on letting him go to his family.”

The knight nodded and turned briskly back into the room. She sat down and steepled her fingers under her chin.

“Tell me about Peter Pettigrew.”

“You won’t be getting anything from me,” Greyback spat, his teeth flashing as he spoke.

The knight told Greyback what Sirius had instructed, and suddenly his eyes went practically rabid.

Greyback scoffed from his place in the cell. “Is that what that bloody traitor told you?” he howled, yanking his arms up like he could break through the chains that were holding him to the table “Pettigrew practically _begged_ me to let him join us. If I’m going down, that bastard can go down with me. He’s lower than dirt, that scum.”

Greyback banged his head on the table wildly, hissing and grumbling about Peter, talking to himself like the insane man that he was. Sirius leaned in, trying to make out all the words that he was throwing out, but as he listened, his heart went cold, and he felt himself freeze where he was sitting.

“He’s no better than that disgusting Lupin. Should have killed Remus when I had the chance. Should have killed him when I killed his parents. Should have killed his mother before we covered his eyes. I’ll kill that Peter Pettigrew; nobody opposes me. How dare he be disloyal to me?” Greyback talked quickly with a menacing tone, and he pulled his arms up and down wildly like a madman as he continued grumbling.

He changed the subject, but Sirius couldn’t believe what he had heard, and he tuned Greyback out. His head was spinning. Remus hadn’t been lying, but Sirius wasn’t focusing on that. Somewhere deep inside, he had already known that. Instead, Greyback’s words floated around in his head. _Should have killed his mother in front of him too._ Had Greyback killed Remus’ parents when he kidnapped him?

Sirius didn’t sleep at all that night, unable to get Remus out of his head no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t know what it was about the jumpy mysterious boy, but Sirius didn’t think he would be leaving his mind for a long time.

After Sirius laid awake for too many hours to count, he finally rolled out of bed, kicking off his blankets to go on a walk around the palace in order to clear his head.

———

When Remus woke up, he didn’t know what time it was. The room he was in was dark, and there was no sign of Pomfrey or Sirius anywhere. He assumed that everyone was asleep, and he tried to sit up slowly like he had earlier.

His ears were ringing, and he felt like he was going to throw up, but he didn’t know when he was going to get a chance like this again. Remus scanned the room, his eyes landing on a table a few feet away from the bed. There were all kinds of fancy doctor tools that Remus had never seen before, and he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

He leaned as far as he could, but his hand was nowhere near close enough to reaching them. He was going to have to stand up eventually, so Remus forced himself to swing his legs off the side of the bed. His left leg was already throbbing, and he hadn’t even put any weight on it yet. There was a little tube attached to his arm, and Remus carefully pulled it out, letting it dangle loosely near the floor.

Very slowly, Remus used his arms to push himself up so that he was standing. He sucked in a breath, and his eyes went blurry for a second as he put a bit of pressure on his leg. He stood still for a few minutes, willing himself not to pass out.

Now that he was standing, Remus could stretch both of his arms out, and he just barely was able to reach the long pointy tools on the table. He debated sitting back down while he worked at the cuffs, but he didn’t want to go through the pain of standing back up again. He worked quickly at the lock, remembering the many times Greyback had done the exact thing to him, handing him a pair of rusted tools, and telling him he could get his food once he escaped.

He worked through his pain and smiled when he felt it click. The cuff opened up around his wrist, and Remus let it dangle on the bed post. It had been loose enough that Remus’ wrist wasn’t red and blistering like he was used to.

The first step forward was the worst. He couldn’t keep back the sharp hiss of pain that he let out, and with every step, he wondered more and more if he was going to be able to do this. He reminded himself that he had to. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life in the palace dungeons or doing whatever it was the royals had planned for him.

Remus knew that his leg could have gotten infected from laying in the dirt for so long after being cut, and he felt how deep it had been with every movement, but it wasn’t just his leg that made it difficult to move. His head was pounding, and it was hard for him to even think clearly. He grimaced as he remembered the first hit to his head.

There was a broom leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, and Remus broke off the end, using the stick as a crutch. It helped a little. With something to put his weight on, Remus was able to move quicker. As he turned to leave the room, tools in hand just in case the door was locked. Suddenly, Remus stopped dead in his tracks.

There was a tall mirror on one of the walls, and Remus leaned forward, taking in the sight that he saw. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since he was much younger, only the few glimpses he had gotten of his reflection in the water.

Someone—maybe Pomfrey—had cut his hair so that it was short on the sides and flowing softly on the top of his head, a few pieces falling out of place over his forehead. In the forest, Remus had occasionally cut his hair with a knife unevenly, and without looking at his reflection, but it hadn’t ever been this neat, and Remus felt almost light. He noticed the absence of dirt and dried blood caked over his scalp.

Someone had also cleaned the rest of the dirt and grime off of his body, which was disconcerting, but it made his skin feel smooth, and he hadn’t realized how itchy he used to feel. Remus leaned in even closer to the mirror. In the dark room, Remus’ eyes looked brown, and he was shocked to find so many freckles covering his face. He didn’t remember those from when he was younger.

There was a fresh looking cut on his upper lip, and he realized that was what was causing him so much pain to talk. There was a deep shade of bruising around his nose and eyes, and he wondered if his nose was broken.

He was wearing black pants, but the left pant leg had been folded up neatly above the tight bandage around his cut. He didn’t have a shirt on, and he observed the bandages that were wrapped around his ribs. It was hard to breathe right and every movement caused a sharp pain under them.

He found it difficult to look at himself for too long. It had never mattered what he looked like with the wolves, but now Remus was painfully aware of the ugly scarring that tore across his chest all the way down to his abdomen. Remus found a shirt in a pile of blankets and clothes near the door, and he threw it on. It was a loose white sweater that hung from his shoulders, and Remus took in how broad they had gotten. It didn’t cover all of the damage that he would have liked, but it would have to do.

Remus had to force himself to look away from the mirror. He didn’t know how much time he had until morning, and he needed to get a good head-start in case the Black’s had deemed him as somebody important enough to chase down. Hopefully not.

The door was luckily unlocked, and Remus hobbled out into a long hallway, taking a break every few steps to get over his dizzying pain. He didn’t know which way to go, so he chose to go right at random. After he turned the corner, Remus had to lean against the wall, and he threw up, his whole body shuddering. Pomfrey had said it was because of his concussion that he was feeling so nauseous, but he suspected part of it had to do with the pain in his leg.

When he was finished throwing up, Remus looked both ways to make sure there was nobody around who had heard him, and he kept moving forward, checking each corner before he turned. Eventually, he made it to a main hallway in the castle judging by how large it was, and he started to spot knights standing next to doors.

He tried to avoid them, but he was losing track of which hallways he had turned down, his sight was getting increasingly worse, and he was so out of sorts that he was starting to not be able to think straight. He began turning down hallways recklessly even though he knew he needed to be careful. Carelessly, he turned a corner without checking it, and somebody ran right into him.

Remus let out a sharp gasp, his leg erupting in pain. He felt something solid wrapping around his waist, holding him up, but he knew it was over. He felt his legs giving out as he stood there.

“Remus?” A surprised voice said near his ear, and then the arms around him tightened their grip, positioning Remus so that he was barely putting any weight on his legs at all.

“Shit,” Remus muttered. There was only one person who would know who Remus was, and of course, it was the one person Remus had to run into.

“What are you doing?” The voice hissed, angry. Remus flinched, and tried to get away, but he was too weak, and Sirius’ hands had become tighter, one of his arms tucked under Remus so that he was practically leaning against the prince. “You’re still hurt.”

The part of Remus that was still comprehending what was going on wondered why that was the first thing that Sirius mentioned. He wondered why he even cared that he was still hurt. Remus shrugged at him, unable to find any words.

Suddenly, Sirius was bending a bit, and his hands slid down to Remus’ back and thigh. Remus didn’t even have time to struggle away from him because Sirius swooped him up in one swift motion so that he was being cradled in his arms against his chest.

“S-Sirius,” Remus choked out, both in surprise and in pain.

“I’m sorry; I know that hurt. I can’t let you walk all the way back to your room, though.” Sirius’ soft voice didn’t match the urgent way that he was walking back the way Remus had come.

Remus closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck to keep himself as steady in his arms as possible. Every movement made Remus feel sick, but he hated to admit that this was much better than the pain he had gone through walking. He tensed up realizing that that had all been for nothing, and that he was defenseless against Sirius. There was nothing he could do about it, though. He just had to trust for the moment that Sirius wouldn’t hurt him.

He was surprised that he wasn’t freaked out more about being so close to Sirius. Usually, he hated even a hand touching him, but here Sirius was, holding Remus against his chest, and it didn’t feel terrible. On the contrary, Remus even found himself wanting to lean into the touch. Sirius was warm, and Remus hadn’t ever been held like this before.

As they turned down the hall near the room, Sirius faltered.

“Did you throw up?” Sirius asked, his voice full of concern.

Remus barely remembered throwing up from his concussed state, and he hadn’t exactly thought he would be returning down the same hall, but now the embarrassment of it stained his cheeks red, and Remus found himself burying his face against Sirius' neck in an attempt to hide. He didn’t realize until afterwards how out of character it was for him, and he thought about how dumb he was being, but he couldn't find it in himself to pull away. He blamed the concussion.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, tipping his face down even more.

Remus tried to pretend that he didn’t feel the way that Sirius tightened his hold on him, pulling him closer against his chest almost protectively.

When they made it back to the hospital room, Remus thought it somehow looked darker than it had earlier, with the only light coming in through a slit in the curtains, reminding Remus of moonbeams and chilly nights.

Sirius leaned over the bed, placing Remus down with care that he had never felt before. Remus sucked in a breath and tipped his head back against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut to hold in the pain he was feeling.

There was a little sound of a match being lit, and then light simmered behind Remus’ closed eyelids. He opened them to see Sirius kneeling next to a kerosene lamp that was now shining warmly around the room.

Sirius was wearing a rumpled black shirt that was stretching across his broad back as he leaned over, and his hair was messier than it had been earlier that day, falling forward in his face and curling at the bottom. For the first time since being found by him, Remus wondered what Sirius had been doing up so late at night, walking the palace halls alone.

When Sirius turned around, Remus had to force himself to stop thinking about how this lighting created shadows over his sharp cheekbones that made something in Remus’ stomach flip in a way that he wasn’t used to. Sirius was a charcoal drawing, and Remus couldn’t look away.

He felt fingers on his leg and tried his best to pull away from the touch.

“Remus, look at me,” Sirius whispered. His voice sounded so incredibly earnest that Remus couldn’t help but listen. Once he had his eyes on Sirius’ heavy gaze, Sirius continued, not breaking eye contact for a moment. “I’m not going to hurt you. I swear on my life. I just need to look at your leg.”

Remus was pretty good at telling when people were lying. He had been around lying thieves long enough to learn that particular skill. Sirius didn’t sound like he was lying, and Remus didn’t think he could push him away even if he wanted to. Remus nodded in response and tipped his head back again, unwilling to look at Sirius as he touched his leg.

He hated it, hated the feeling of his fingers on his skin. At least, he thought he would hate it.

Sirius was unwrapping his bandage with soft, careful fingers, and when he had it unwrapped, Remus could feel one of Sirius’ hands resting gently on Remus’ knee as he observed the wound. Remus tried to tell himself that no touch was innocent, but there was something about the gentle slide of Sirius’ fingers that had him doubting himself.

“You tore open your stitches,” Sirius muttered almost frantically, standing up.

Remus risked a glance down, and it was so much worse than he thought. The cut was deep, and there was blood running down his leg, spilling all over the clean white sheets that he was laying on.

“I’m going to get Pomfrey.”

Sirius turned to leave, but he stopped and turned back, eyes flicking to the cuffs hanging from the bed. “Do I need to, umm?” he asked, motioning towards the cuff.

“Probably.”

Sirius frowned and stepped back towards Remus. “Please don’t go anywhere. Nothing bad will happen to you while you’re here, Remus. I swear I will make sure of that. I don’t want to have to put that back on you.”

Remus was struck silent with Sirius’ words. He couldn’t believe he was about to leave Remus free like this when he had _just_ tried to run away. He wanted to scoff at Sirius’ reassurances. He had thought the same thing eleven years ago—that nothing bad would ever happen to him on the farm—but he was wrong then, and he had decided he would never make the mistake of thinking that about a place ever again.

Maybe it was that he _wanted_ to believe Sirius, or maybe it was because he so desperately missed the security of feeling safe that made Remus whisper, “I won’t go anywhere.”

Sirius’ eyes filled with relief, and he nodded, turning and racing out of the room to wake Pomfrey. When he returned, it wasn’t Pomfrey who followed him, though.

She was much younger and practically half of Sirius’ height, with dark skin and a caring face. Her eyes were wide and alert even though she was in her pajamas as if she had loyally left to follow Sirius the moment he woke her. Remus wondered if she was loyal to Sirius or Sirius’ title.

“Remus, this is Dorcas. She’s another physician here,” Sirius said, pulling a chair right up to Remus’ bed, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands like he had been sitting there, so close to Remus, his entire life.

All Remus could do was nod as he turned his head to look at Sirius who was already looking at him.

“Marlene is going to kill you at training tomorrow for this,” Dorcas muttered, rifling through a drawer and pulling out a needle, thread, and other random things.

“She can handle one night without you,” Sirius responded.

Remus didn’t know who to look at, so he opted for staring up at the white ceiling, trying to ignore the heavy gaze that he could feel Sirius giving him from his seat at Remus’ side.

Dorcas laughed. “You’d be surprised how clingy she gets. Okay Remus, this is going to hurt, might want to hold onto something.”

Remus had the words, _I’m good,_ on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw Sirius’ hand slip out, resting on the mattress; an offering but not a demand. Remus appreciated that he hadn’t touched Remus, and he thought about how quickly he had offered up his hand, without a second thought. Remus wasn’t planning on holding it, but then he felt a stinging liquid being poured onto his leg, and his hand shot out, grabbing Sirius’ in his tightly.

Sirius’ hand was warm and constant in his, and Remus realized the last time he had held a hand was that night with his dad as they headed to the hill before his father had turned back for the present. For the necklace that now was dangling from Greyback’s neck.

Sirius let Remus squeeze his hand so tightly that he didn’t know how Sirius hadn’t pulled away yet. Dorcas cleaned Remus’ leg, and when she started the stitches, Remus tugged his lip between his teeth, biting down hard. In his peripheral he saw Sirius’ other hand come up, and then he felt delicate fingers on his forehead, brushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead. Remus let out a breath, and realized that for the first time in a long time he hadn’t tensed up at a hand coming near him.

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled, pulling away like he had forgotten himself for a second.

“S’okay,” Remus breathed out between clenched teeth, squeezing Sirius’ hand again as Dorcas continued the stitches.

When Dorcas was finished, she wrapped a new bandage tightly around his leg, tying it off with deft hands.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dorcas asked Remus, and it took a second for him to realize she was being sarcastic.

Remus let out a breathy laugh and shook his head no, more focused on the fact that his hand was still in Sirius’ than he should have been. Sirius didn’t let go even when it was over, and Remus waited a second more before pulling away. He felt bad for how sweaty his hand had become, and he worried that he might have hurt Sirius’ hand.

“Sorry,” he whispered, still breathing heavily as he tried to ignore the pain coursing through his leg.

“Don’t be,” Sirius answered sincerely.

Dorcas eventually left, leaving Remus with a soft smile.

Suddenly, Remus felt strange about being alone with Sirius for some reason. He tried to keep his eyes on the ceiling, but they betrayed him, flicking to Sirius and then back up again. Sirius let out a heavy breath.

“How’d you even get out of the cuff?”

Remus sighed and pulled out the tool that he had tucked away in his pocket, passing it to Sirius. “It was on the table,” he mumbled.

Sirius scoffed lightly. “So you just know how to pick locks?”

Remus fixed Sirius with a stare, not elaborating on how he had learned. He was caught off guard when Sirius _rolled his eyes_ at Remus. He did it playfully with a smile on his face like they had known each other forever. Like Remus hadn’t just tried to run away out of fear for what was going to happen to him.

“Are you going to tell me why you felt the need to tear your stitches open running through the palace halls at three in the morning?” Sirius asked.

Remus bit the inside of his cheek and ran his fingers through his hair, still shocked to find how easy it was for his fingers to move through his waves. He answered Sirius’ question with a question. “What do you plan on doing to me? Why did you even bother taking me back?”

Sirius smiled sadly at Remus. “I told you there were other servants like you with the Death Eaters. We took them back here because we were trying to _save_ them. My knights and I have a strict code of honor not to kill anyone we don’t have to, and what happened to you when you… it shouldn’t have happened, Remus. The least we can do is help everyone get back to their families.”

Remus eyed Sirius skeptically. He didn’t know if he should trust him, but it was starting to get hard not to. What reason did Sirius have to lie?

Sirius chuckled, and Remus tried to tell himself that he didn’t like the way that it sounded. “You don’t have to believe me, just don’t go and hurt yourself again, okay? And don’t tell my parents I’m keeping you here without restraint.” Sirius paused for a long second like it was an afterthought when he said, “And don’t attack any of the staff, please.”

Remus laughed, and he found himself shocked by the noise. He hadn’t even known that it was possible for him to laugh like that. Something bright sparkled behind Sirius’ misty gaze, and Remus found himself wondering what had caused it. He found himself wondering why he cared so much about the emotions Sirius let out through his piercing gazes.

“So… You said something about returning people to their families?” Remus said. There was no hope behind his voice because he had learned not to have hope about things like this a long time ago, but he had also never thought that he might have a chance to see his mother again. If she was still alive.

Sirius’ shoulders stiffened, and Remus refused to be disappointed. He wondered if Sirius had only said they were returning servants to their families to get Remus to trust him.

“Yeah, some of the families have already been found. We were able to get a couple people back safely. A few didn’t have families to return to, though, and the palace kept them on as workers. It’s good here, our staff all have rooms and food to eat.”

Remus nodded, not allowing himself to reveal too much. Sirius must have read his untold questions on his face, though.

“Do you know if you have anyone we should be searching for? I know you were very young.”

Remus weighed his options about what to say. He didn’t want Sirius asking questions. He didn’t want to relive that day again. He decided on being blunt and getting straight to the point, no feelings involved.

“I lived on a farm in one of the outer villages north of here. I was an only child, and I grew up with my parents. My father was killed when I was taken,” Remus plowed through that part, not allowing his voice to break, “But my mother might still be alive. Her name was Hope. Hope Lupin.”

When Remus looked up at Sirius, there was a sad expression taking over his sharp features, and his eyes were dark. Remus didn’t bother asking what was wrong. He had always been one to get straight to the point, so he did.

“She’s dead isn’t she?”

———

Sirius didn’t know how he was going to leave Remus and go back to his room after the night he was having. The last thing he had expected from getting up for a late night walk was literally running right into the reason he couldn’t sleep. Sirius didn’t think he was ever going to be able to sleep again without having millions of thoughts running through his head each night. 

Not now that he knew what it felt like to have Remus in his arms, Remus’ own arms wrapped around his neck. Sirius knew Remus had only done it to keep himself stable, but he pretended it was just because he wanted to. He didn’t know why he pretended it. He couldn’t even explain what he was feeling himself, but that didn’t stop him from pretending that Remus was feeling all of the unexplainable things that Sirius was feeling too.

He pretended it when he was holding Remus’ hand, watching his entire face tighten every time he squeezed Sirius’ hand like his life depended on it. He pretended it when he heard Remus laugh for the first time since he had woken up. It had been a wonderful sound, and Sirius never had wanted it to end.

Most of all, he pretended it when he had felt Remus tuck his head against his neck, his hair tickling his chin. His hair had been as soft as it looked, and Sirius couldn’t couldn’t get over how it had felt to have Remus so close.

Now, he sat in front of this boy, wondering how the world could be so cruel to have made it seem easy for Remus to say the words that Sirius never thought he would hear anyone say so calmly.

“She’s dead isn’t she?”

Sirius had learned something quickly about Remus since their first conversation, and it had only intensified as the spoke. Remus went through every conversation with layers of filters over his mouth, and before he said anything, he threw up about five different masks on his face to hide his emotions. He was skeptical of everything that Sirius said, always analyzing, always five steps ahead, wondering what the outcome of every decision he made could be.

He didn’t trust a thing Sirius said no matter how much Sirius tried to prove to him that he only wanted to help, and the thought made Sirius only want to try harder. He wanted to see what Remus would look like without his masks on. He wanted to see what Remus would say without his walls thrown up. He wanted to see what Remus would do if he just stopped thinking about every damn thing he did.

Sirius nodded sadly, hating so much that he was the one who had to break the news to Remus. “Greyback mentioned something during questioning about your parents.” Sirius didn’t bring up any of the horrible details.

Remus nodded like that was it. He had gone all of his life wondering if his mother was still alive, and just like that, he had accepted it. How many times had Remus been let down? How old was he when he gave up all hope of ever being happy?

“Do you remember if you had any aunts or uncles? Any family at all?”

Remus shook his head. “I was six, and it was a long time ago. I just remember my parents.”

Sirius nodded and let silence fill the room for a second. “I’ll make sure we look around a bit. You said your last name was Lupin?”

“It’s fine,” Remus answered quickly. “It doesn’t matter that much anyways.”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re right, it’s only your life we’re talking about here.”

“I didn’t ask for your help, Sirius.”

Sirius hated that instead of focusing on Remus’ cold words, he latched onto the way he said his name. Sirius still had close knights who had a hard time calling him Sirius. It was always “Your Highness” and “sir” like he hadn’t known them his whole life, yet here was a boy that Sirius had just met who called him Sirius just like that. He flashed back to the way Remus had stuttered out his name when he picked Remus up earlier. Nobody said his name like that; not even James.

Sirius knew he should have been mad at Remus for his lack of gratitude, but he wasn’t. How could he be?

“I know that. You were unconscious, bleeding out on the forest floor when I decided to help you.”

Remus seemed taken aback by Sirius’ words, which was a rarity, but he cleared his face quickly. “I didn’t need your help.”

Sirius laughed. “Remus, if I hadn’t helped you that night, you would have died.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

It looked like Remus regretted saying it the minute the words left his mouth, and Sirius felt something cold take over his body. The words rang over and over in his head, making him dizzy.

“I don’t regret saving you,” Sirius responded, his voice sounding more passionate than he had meant for it to sound. 

Remus raised an eyebrow and crinkled his nose in a way that Sirius would describe as adorable if he knew that Remus wouldn’t try to murder him for it.

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Of course you can’t,” Sirius mumbled, causing Remus to smirk, and roll onto his back again.

Now that Remus wasn’t looking, and he was sprawled out on the bed, Sirius trailed his eyes down the side of Remus’ face to the curve of his neck and his toned arms. He wondered what Remus looked like under the loose sweater he was wearing and thought about what it would be like to show Remus the good sides of human contact.

Sirius shook his head, pinching his wrist. _Oh no_ , he thought.

It hadn’t been hard to figure out that he was queer. His parents had princesses and the beautiful daughters of rich nobles over enough times for Sirius to know there was a reason that he seemed to only want to pay attention to their guards or handsome brothers. That didn’t mean that Sirius ever planned on doing anything about it.

He had been getting by just fine forcing himself to pretend that he enjoyed when the daughters of said nobles dragged him into closets and dark corners to kiss while their parents were in business meetings. He had been getting by just fine reminding himself what his parents would do if they found out about him. He had been getting by just fine until now.

Sirius decided he wouldn’t allow himself to think about whatever feelings he had been feeling for Remus. Remus had had enough people taking advantage of him, and he didn’t need Sirius coming in and screwing up whatever sort of trust they had built.

“Can I help you up?” Sirius asked gently. “There’s blood all over these sheets.”

Remus grimaced, probably at the thought of having to stand up again. “It’s fine, I can—”

Sirius didn’t let Remus finish. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He stood up, being careful to move slowly, so he didn’t freak Remus out. Before Remus could sit up, Sirius moved carefully, sliding his hand under Remus’ back.

“Can I just—” Sirius picked Remus up again, careful not to bump his leg. “Sorry, it’s easier.”

Sirius sat Remus down on the desk near his bed, hating that he couldn’t help but let his hand linger a second on Remus’ waist. Remus dangled his legs down, clutching his hands on the edge of the desk tightly and breathing through his nose in short even breaths.

Sirius stripped off the sheets quickly, finding new ones in a cabinet on the wall full of random things for the room. When he was finished, he made his way back to Remus, taking his arm in his.

Remus slid off the desk, keeping his left leg up so that there was no weight on it. He leaned against Sirius as he hopped back to the bed, and once they were there, Sirius lifted him back up, hating the loss of contact with Remus when he had to let go. 

“You should get some sleep,” Sirius suggested, knowing it was true, but not wanting to leave.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to now,” Remus sighed.

Sirius was surprised at Remus’ honesty, “Why not?” he pressed.

Remus turned onto his side, a piece of his hair falling attractively onto his forehead. He rested his head on one of his arms, and curled the other one up in front of him. _Off limits,_ Sirius said inside his head.

“I haven’t slept in a bed since I was taken, and I haven’t been this clean since I was taken. I haven’t worn clothes this nice since, well, ever. Everything feels too,” Remus stopped, searching for the word, “soft.”

It wasn’t the answer Sirius had been expecting. Remus hadn’t mentioned the fact that he had just gotten stitches on his deeply cut leg, or that he was in a strange new place away from everything he was used to. Instead, it was bothering him that everything was too soft.

“I would say you could sleep on the ground, but I don’t know how I would feel about even allowing you to do that in your condition.”

Remus smiled; it was a small thing, a little tug at the side of his lips, but Sirius liked it. “It’s fine, it wouldn’t be the same as the forest floor anyways.”

Sirius didn’t know how Remus could survive sleeping on the forest floor his whole life. Three months had been plenty enough for him, and he had padding to place down in his cozy tent.

“I bet we could probably find some clothes for you that weren’t so, uh, soft… if you want,” Sirius offered.

“That’s okay,” Remus said immediately, but his face betrayed him. The look in his eyes said something else, and Sirius laughed.

“I’ll bring you some tomorrow.”

“No honestly, Sirius, it’s fine,” Remus argued.

“It’s no trouble. Besides, I would hate myself if I forced you to sit here feeling too soft.”

Remus narrowed his eyes at Sirius’ joke. “I can’t tell if you’re teasing me,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m not,” Sirius protested, his hands raising innocently in the air, but the smile on his face gave him away.

Remus shook his head and repositioned himself a bit, grimacing as he moved his leg.

Dorcas had left some sleeping medicine on the counter to help Remus sleep through his pain, but for some reason, Sirius didn’t think that Remus would want to take it. He weighed his options on how to bring it up.

Sirius stood up and grabbed the medicine off the counter, trying for the casual approach.

“Here, Dorcas left this for you.”

Remus eyed the liquid skeptically, and Sirius tried not to take it personally that he had scooted away when Sirius stood up, leaning almost off the bed.

“What is it?”

“It’s to help with your pain. You’ll probably sleep better too,” Sirius explained.

“Er, what’s in it?” Remus asked, his body still tensed and leaning away from Sirius.

Sirius sighed. “I don’t know, I didn’t ask her, but I promise you it’ll only help. Dorcas has no intention of hurting you; it’s her job to make you feel better.”

Sirius reached his hand out, offering it to Remus, but when Remus only stared at it, unwilling to take it, Sirius set it on the table next to Remus’ bed.

“I’ll leave it here. You can take it if you want.”

Remus switched his gaze from the medicine, to staring at Sirius. Sirius tried not to squirm under the unfamiliar scrutiny. It was funny how being a prince made people almost nervous to look at him, but here Remus was, openly taking Sirius in, reading him. Sirius realized that he liked it. He liked feeling like he was actually being listened to. It was strange because he thought that as a prince, he was noticed, but being around Remus made him realize things. It made him notice how different Remus acted around him than anyone else.

It was hard to force himself not to stare back. Sirius had realized that Remus always seemed to tighten up when people paid him any attention, and he hated that it was probably because in Remus’ past whenever anyone paid attention to him, it always led to bad things.

“Goodnight, Remus,” Sirius said quietly, turning towards the door. He didn’t expect a reply, and he was fine with that.

“Sirius?” Remus said, almost forced. Sirius turned around, unable to contain his small smile from hearing his name in Remus’ mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Er, thank you…for the help,” Remus mumbled, almost unsure, like he didn’t know if he could thank Sirius yet, wasn’t sure if he could trust Sirius yet.

“Of course. Dorcas or Pomfrey will check your leg in the morning.”

Remus nodded, so Sirius turned back, latching the door quietly behind him. He tried not to think about how he had left Remus free inside the room, but he found himself trusting Remus’ word. He was sure that Remus would still be there in the morning, and it was weird how that thought made him feel so relieved.

Once Sirius got back to his room, his eyes felt tired, and he barreled into bed with only half the mind to tug his shoes and shirt off. His bed may not have been too soft for him to fall sleep like it was for Remus, but there was one irrefutable fact that Sirius felt as he drifted off that night; his bed was entirely too big for _just_ him.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where’s your head at?” Sirius heard James say for the millionth time that day at training as he once again knocked Sirius down to the ground.

“Shut up,” Sirius muttered, brushing himself off and taking James’ hand to stand back up.

He didn’t have anything better to say. He couldn’t exactly tell James that the reason he couldn’t focus was because he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night since he took a walk, ran into the boy he couldn’t stop thinking about, and stayed with him while he got his stitches redone. He couldn’t tell him that he was having feelings for the very same boy that he couldn’t even begin to explain despite how he had _just_ met him. He couldn’t tell him any of those things, so he kept quiet and pushed on, just trying to make it through practice.

He heard a couple knights snickering from where they were supposed to be practicing sword drills, and something inside his sleep-deprived mind snapped.

“That’s it! Ten laps, everybody!”

There was a series of grumbling as the knights dropped what they were doing and took off around the grounds.

“Someone’s got a stick up their butt,” Marlene muttered as she jogged past Sirius.

“That’s eleven for you, Marlene!” Sirius called, but secretly he was thankful for her.

Not many of the others felt comfortable talking to Sirius like that, and although Marlene’s comments could be quite inappropriate at times, they made Sirius feel more like he was on the same level as them.

“Psh, it’s your fault I woke up so late last night Black! I should give _you_ laps,” Marlene responded, jogging backwards as she yelled back to him.

Sirius laughed and shook his head. He took the time that his knights were out jogging to help clear his mind, forcing himself to stick to the matters at hand.

James finished his laps first, as expected, and he went straight to Sirius, stopping to fold his arms over his chest and lean against a tree trunk. James stared at Sirius for a second, so Sirius fixed him with an unamused look.

“You going to tell me what happened last night?” James finally said.

“What do you mean?”

“First, you haven’t been focusing at all during practice, which never happens, and then Marlene made that comment about waking up late last night,” James listed.

Sirius forced a laugh, trying to look nonchalant. “Nothing really happened.”

James rose an eyebrow at Sirius.

“Okay, so I might have ran into Remus last night trying to,” Sirius struggled for the word for a second, “escape.”

“Escape? What do you mean? Escape from what?”

A heavy sigh left Sirius, and he brushed his fingers through his hair, recalling images of last night even though he had just worked so hard to clear his mind of them. He started hesitantly, choosing his words wisely. “Remus… he seemed to expect the worst from everybody. I think he was wrapped up in this notion that we were keeping him for information or to send him to the dungeons.”

“He _was_ wrapped up in the notion?” James pressed.

“I don’t know. We talked a bit last night, and I think he might be getting a little less skeptical.”

James nodded, but then his face grew confused again. “Wait, what does Marlene have to do with this?”

“Oh, Remus tore his stitches open, and I had to get Dorcas to fix him up again. I guess Dorcas woke Marlene up when she was leaving.”

“When do I get to meet Remus? This dude seems too cool to be real,” James exclaimed.

Sirius laughed, and gave him a funny look.

“I’m serious! I have this feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

“Well, I have the feeling that Remus isn’t really the type to have friends.”

“That’s because he’s never met me,” James joked.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but most of the knights were back, milling about as they waited to find out what was next, so he turned to them instead of answering James. Once Sirius had given everybody instructions, and they all partnered off, practicing sword drills, Sirius tried to focus more on practice.

Despite his efforts, the longer he fought under the sweltering sun, and the more exhaustion began to creep in, the harder it was to keep his mind from wandering.

The moment Sirius dismissed all the knights, Sirius found his legs pulling him towards the hospital wing, and he didn’t even try to stop himself.

———

Remus woke up feeling confused. He blinked away the remains of his sleepy daze and took in the light of the small room he was in. He didn’t know if it was the concussion or the fact that he had just woke up that was making him so out of it, but either way, he didn’t like it. He felt unprepared and unalert, which were the two things that Remus had always tried to never be.

He heard footsteps coming towards his door and had half the mind to hope it was Sirius. The other half of his mind scolded him for his hope.

Instead of the dark-haired prince, Pomfrey entered the room. She shuffled around, not paying much attention to Remus, which was fine with him. When she finally did turn towards him, she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes going wide for a second.

Remus narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what on earth she looked so worried about, but then he followed her gaze to behind him, and his eyes landed on the cuff that was dangling loosely from the bed post. Most people would explain what had happened, or reassure that they weren’t going to harm anyone, but Remus turned back around, staring blankly at Pomfrey.

Just as their staring contest was starting to get awkward, Dorcas came marching through the door. Remus observed that she had sounded the exact same as the night before. Her steps were swift but loud, like she held herself with confidence and grace at the same time. Dorcas’ face shifted as she stepped inside and noticed the strange air around them.

“Umm,” she said.

Remus fixed her with a bored stare. To his surprise, she returned it to him.

“So, I’m assuming Remus filled you in on last night?” Dorcas asked Pomfrey.

“Last night? No, he did not fill me in on _anything_.”

“Okay, well he tore his stitches, so I patched him back up.”

“He what? You what? Dorcas, you’ve never done stitches!” Pomfrey exclaimed.

Remus rose his eyebrow at Dorcas. For some reason, he just assumed that she had known what she was doing last night. She sort of had that air about her. Pomfrey rushed over to Remus’ leg, and he pulled it back swiftly, tucking his arm around it for good measure.

“Oh, calm down. You act like it’s so hard,” Dorcas drawled. “Besides, I watched Mary doing it when I asked her for help in the tent a few days ago.”

Pomfrey reached out again, but Remus tucked himself further into the wall. “S’fine,” he mumbled.

Dorcas began ranting about something that Remus was having a hard time paying attention to because he was just focusing on evading Pomfrey. For some reason, it had been so much easier letting her check on him when Sirius had been in the room, but now it just felt threatening no matter how sweet and old Pomfrey looked.

He picked up on a few things Dorcas was saying. “I know I just came here as an apprentice, but geez woman you treat me like a child.” “It’s always just blah blah Dorcas you can’t do that yet, blah blah Dorcas you’re not experienced enough.” “I did them just fine, and he didn’t pull away from me, so that’s gotta tell you something.” “His Royal Highness trusted me more than you last night.”

Pomfrey was looking increasingly frustrated either with Dorcas’ long-winded ranting from the corner of the room, or Remus’ lack of cooperation, but the more she reached out, pleading with Remus to just let her take a look, the more panicked and backed into a corner Remus felt.

And that was when Sirius walked through the door.

Remus heard him immediately and looked up, catching his eye. He watched as Sirius’ brow furrowed, and he glanced around the room confused. Sirius had walked in on an interesting scene to say the least.

Dorcas was still ranting under her breath and pacing wildly. Pomfrey had her back turned toward the door and hadn’t heard Sirius coming in, so she was still trying to get Remus to cooperate, stretching her arms out wildly and complaining under her breath. Remus was backed against the wall, both of his knees tucked up against his chest.

The prince did the last thing that Remus would have expected him to do. His face slowly changed from confusion to a wide smile, and he laughed softly, shaking his head. With the sound of his laugh, Dorcas cut off her sharp words, shooting her head towards the door. Pomfrey’s arm dropped back down to her side, and she eased around much slower than Dorcas had.

“Your Highness,” Pomfrey said a bit out of breath.

“Hi, Poppy,” Sirius greeted much less formally. “What did I just walk in on?”

Sirius smiled a little lopsided smile that tugged at the corner of one side of his mouth more than the other and made a dimple on his cheek stand out. Remus tried not to stare, but the smile was doing something to his head. He told himself it was just the concussion making him think weird.

Poppy huffed out in annoyance. “Your Highness, I mean no offense, but was there a reason that you went to Dorcas last night instead of me?”

Sirius’ smile fell down into a frown, his eyebrow creasing. Remus pretended like it wasn’t even more attractive than the smile. No scratch that, he pretended like it wasn’t attractive at all. The prince cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

“It was, ah, late,” he answered.

“Uh, sir, what does that have to do with anything?” Pomfrey pointed out.

Sirius glanced at Dorcas, looking awkward. “I thought you would want to sleep.”

Dorcas scoffed. “Right and I didn’t?”

Sirius picked at his pockets, looking everywhere but at Pomfrey. “Well it’s just, Dorcas is much younger than you, so,”

“Oh ho, so because Marlene’s so young and lively, and I’m just an old woman, then I shouldn’t be alerted when _my_ patient needs attending to.” Pomfrey flung her hands into the air.

Remus watched amused from his place on the bed. He was starting to think that everybody here had that kind of temper that was almost playful and very stubborn, which was a much different kind than the tempers that he was used to being around. He decided he liked this much better.

Sirius rolled his eyes and strode deeper into the room. He had something in his arms that he placed on a table, and then he moved towards the end of the room. He took his seat next to Remus the same way he had last night, like he had been casually sitting next to Remus his whole life, propping his elbow up on his knee.

“Well, did Dorcas do such a terrible job?” Sirius asked, teasing in his voice.

“Hey!” Dorcas exclaimed. “I did perfectly fine.”

“I'd _like_ to second that, but Remus won’t let me take a look,” Pomfrey grumbled.

Sirius’ face scrunched up, and he turned his head towards Remus, his eyes softening. Remus didn’t want Sirius to think he was a wimp, so he sighed and stuck out his leg, ignoring the constant stinging pain that shot up it when he moved. Pomfrey immediately set to work, unraveling the bandage to take a look. Remus stiffened at Pomfrey’s touch like he always did, and he pinched his arm, waiting for the touch to be over.

A soft voice drew him up to where Sirius was, leaning forward a bit. “Here.”

Before Remus could really understand what was happening, Sirius reached forward a bit with his hand, real slow, towards Remus’ own hand that was lying next to him on the bed. Sirius paused right before their hands met, waiting a beat of silence to allow Remus to pull away if he wanted to, but Remus was too shocked to really do much. Sirius smiled that heart stopping smile and took Remus’ hand.

“Just relax,” he said, tightening his fingers for a second in an almost comforting manner. “Pomfrey’s only here to help.”

Remus realized that he had been staring at Sirius for a moment too long, and he finally forced himself to nod a bit, turning so that he didn’t have to look at Sirius any longer. This was the second time that Sirius had held his hand, but the first time, Remus had been in too much pain to really think about.

He wondered if it was normal to hold people’s hands. He wouldn’t really know if it was. There was a lot of social things he didn’t really know about, seeing as he had been away from normal civilization practically his whole life. Or maybe Sirius was just a very touchy person. The thing was that Remus was the complete opposite of a touchy person—touch averse even—but he didn’t hate the feeling of Sirius’ warm hand in his.

It was an easy distraction from the pain all over his body and Pomfrey’s occasional touch. Sirius ran his thumb over Remus’ bruised knuckles, but when Remus looked up, he saw that Sirius’ eyes were directed on Dorcas who was back to ranting again and pacing back and forth like he had only subconsciously been rubbing Remus’ hand. There was a small amused smile on Sirius’ face, and he continued to absentmindedly trail his hand over Remus’, completely unaware of the confusion that it was causing Remus to feel.

When Sirius turned his attention back to Remus, his eyes grew focused and they bore straight into Remus’ heart.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked. The way he spoke to him made Remus feel like they were suddenly the only two people in the room.

“Fine,” Remus responded on instinct, disproving his own words as he squeezed Sirius’ hand while Pomfrey reapplied some sort of salve to an old cut that hadn’t really healed by the time of the fight.

Pomfrey scoffed from where she worked. “Remus, you’re lucky none of these old wounds got infected because they were so dirty when I first treated them.”

“Old wounds?” Sirius asked, his eyes darkening, and his hand tightening on Remus’. It didn’t make Remus feel as trapped as he would have thought that it would.

“Yeah, boy’s got himself quite the amount of battle scars. Had all kinds of old cuts and wounds that hadn’t been treated anywhere close to properly.

“How often did they make you do fights like that?” Sirius asked.

Remus shrugged. “Not often, but I got good at fighting pretty young. The others liked to use me to practice and stuff.”

Sirius’ face grew angry for a second, and he worried his lip between his teeth. Remus closed his eyes, choosing to ignore it. He had never received pity in his life, and he didn’t need it now.

Maybe it was a wolf thing, or maybe it was just Remus, but with his eyes shut, he felt the rest of his senses heighten. In the forest, there were always sounds all around him. The wind blowing the leaves of a nearby bush, the sound of wild game rustling through the forest floor, one of the other Wolves coming to approach him from behind. Here, it was much quieter. Remus let himself relax. He focused on the warmth of Sirius’ hand in his, the sounds of Dorcas’ feet gliding softly across the hard floor, and the smell of medicine and cleaning products.

It was grounding to say the least.

“Alright, I want to check the bruising on your ribs, now. Can you sit up for me, dear?” Pomfrey asked.

Sirius, constant as ever, stood up and slipped his arm around Remus’ back to help him come to a sitting position. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable sting of sharp nails against his skin. When it didn’t come, he opened his eyes again, focusing on the young prince next to him. _This is not Greyback_ , Remus reminded himself over and over again.

Remus slipped off his sweater without needing to be asked, and he heard Sirius trying to stifle his gasp as he took in the jagged lines that tore at his skin. A strange feeling began to surface right in Remus’ stomach, and he felt his cheeks heating up under Dorcas, Pomfrey, and Sirius’ stares. It was something he had never remembered feeling before, and it took him a second to place it. _Self-consciousness_ , he thought.

“Can we get this over with quickly,” he ground out, already feeling sore from keeping himself sitting up despite Sirius’ solid hand propped on his back. 

His words must have moved everyone into motion because Pomfrey nodded moving forward, Dorcas began unwrapping the tight bandages, and Sirius leaned forward so he could help Remus better. Remus’ body tightened underneath so many hands, and he felt his shoulders tensing significantly.

Sure enough, there were dark black bruises painted across Remus’ torso under the wraps, and Pomfrey immediately began rubbing strange remedies and salves on. She had Remus drink some sort of potion, and then wrapped him back up with bandages. He let out a long breath when Sirius finally lowered him back down to the pillow.

Remus heard the footsteps in the hall long before the short knock came at the door. Whoever this was walked loudly and with purpose, almost like there was a small skip in their stride.

Dorcas opened the door slightly, talking quietly with whoever was there.

“Is Sirius here?” a man asked from the hall.

Suddenly, a face popped into view, leaning around Dorcas who opened the door and let him in, closing it behind him. Remus wondered what all the secrecy was about.

The boy who entered looked about Sirius’ age. He had black unruly hair that was sticking up in every direction, and he wore the uniform of a knight, a small lion emblem patched on his shoulder. The knight’s eyes seemed to go wide when he saw Remus on the bed, and he motioned quickly to Sirius who stood up, making his way to the corner of the room. They whispered quietly to each other, unaware that Remus could easily hear them.

“What is it, James?” Sirius asked.

Remus recognized the name instantly. Could this be the James that Peter had betrayed?

“Everyone’s been looking for you everywhere since practice. Your parents have been trying to request an audience with you, but none of the knights knew where you were. I figured…”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “I’ve been here.”

“Okay, well you better go meet with them before they find you here, or they’ll have my head for taking so long to track you down.”

“Right,” Sirius chuckled. “Do you know what it’s about?”

“How am I supposed to ever know what the Majesties want to talk about?”

Sirius nodded his head as if to agree, and there was a moment of silence between the two boys.

“Can I meet him?” James asked tentatively. Remus could only assume they were talking about him. Remus watched Sirius’ face carefully. It looked doubtful at first.

“If you really want. I’ve got to head out, though.”

James nodded, and Sirius nodded, and something between the two seemed to be decided. Remus wondered why a knight seemed so perfectly casual with the heir and crowned prince of Hogwarts.

Sirius turned back to the three of them. “Poppy, if you could alert me if anything in his health changes.” Poppy nodded. He looked at Remus.

“I left some clothes that aren’t so _soft_ on the table.” There was a small teasing smile on his face. Remus smirked back, and then Sirius gave a small and very princely nod, seemingly to the entire room. He turned out the door, his stride long and heavy.

Pomfrey continued working on Remus, and Dorcas jumped up onto the desk, crossing her legs underneath her. James strutted over to Remus.

“Hi, I’m James,” he said brightly.

Remus didn’t know what to say. He had never been so openly and happily greeted by a stranger before. He nodded warily and offered up a weak, “Remus,” in return.

“Cool name,” James commented, pulling Sirius’ chair around so that he could sit on it the wrong way, his chest facing the back of it.

“Er, thanks,” Remus replied awkwardly.

“I saw your fight a few days ago. It was totally insane.”

James had a light and excitable voice, and he moved a bit energetically as he spoke. There was the same slight mischievous glint in his eye that Remus had detected in Sirius.

James’ words struck him off guard. Sirius had also mentioned something about seeing the fight, and Remus grew curious.

“How did you see it?” Remus asked, clearing his throat because it was still a bit sore.

A sparkle shown behind his eye, and James sat up a bit straighter, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright so get this, we’ve been traveling through the endless forest for days on end, dirt between our fingernails, and sore from riding our horses.”

James wove his arms around dramatically and he spoke with an exaggerated storyteller voice. Remus was instantly confused by James’ casual manor, speaking to him like they were best friends. It was unsettling, but also something tired and searching tugged at his heart, yearning for something Remus had never before had. Remus forced a confused smile at James’ words, which only caused James to smile brighter, pushing forward in his story.

“There I was on one of my scouting missions, my true and dearest love at my side, her flaming red hair tied in a beautiful braid that fell down her back.”

Dorcas laughed softly from her spot on the desk. The way James was describing who he could only assume was Lily from the stories about Peter was endearing and quite funny considering he was coming up with it on the spot.

The laugh only egged James on more. “As we hid in the bushes, a big ugly wolf made his way towards a large tent, and there, emerging from its depths was none other than Greyback himself.”

Remus cringed at the name, thoughts of pain and hurt filling his head at the pure mention of the man. James seemed to sense his hesitation because he pushed forward in the story, making sure to add as many insults as he could towards the man.

He told of overhearing plans for meeting up with the Death Eaters and a very dramatic tale of sneaking into their camp to find plans for the siege. His voice was unwavering as he described the night it happened; how the knights had all spread out in a circle around the camp and taken their chance once Voldemort had been shot by “James’ wondrous sugar pumpkin” or however James had described Lily.

The rapid movement of James’ hands had Remus on edge, but James seemed to notice this early on because he stayed pushed back in his chair, and looked like he was trying very hard to suppress his energy.

When the story was thoroughly ended, Pomfrey had finished with Remus and slipped out, and Dorcas was laughing her head off.

“That is not at all what happened!” she wheezed.

“Right, and you would know after spending the entire battle in the medical tent,” James muttered.

“I mean, it’s pretty easy to tell that you couldn’t possibly have _run up_ that guys body, leapt off his head, and buried your sword in the person behind him. It makes no sense, and very much defies the laws of gravity,” Dorcas argued.

“Screw the laws of gravity!” James exclaimed, making Remus jump. James ignored it for Remus’ sake, which he appreciated, but he did lower his voice a bit. “You weren’t there when I did it, so you have no say.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes. “Well, I know a certain prince who was there. I wonder what he would say if I asked him.”

“His Royal Butt-Kicker was too busy running his sword through that giant fellow who knocked Remus’ lights out,” James replied.

Remus felt his eyes widen. He found himself speaking before he even realized how unusual it was for him. “Wait, Sirius killed Hugo?” he asked.

“Is that his name? Anyways, yeah he did, ran straight for him the second the battle started.”

Remus felt his eyes narrowing as he took the information in. He didn’t know how to feel about the fact, and he guessed that he really didn’t need to have an opinion about the matter. It just seemed strange that Sirius would have targeted him so early on. Maybe he had thought Hugo was the biggest threat in the battle.

“Well there would have had to be someone who witnessed your glorious move hadn’t there?” Dorcas noted.

James puffed out his chest and grew a strange look on his face that was probably supposed to look tough. “It was glorious wasn’t it?”

Dorcas and James burst out laughing, and something deep in Remus’ chest tugged at him to join them. He tested it and let himself laugh a small quiet laugh. It felt new and very scary, but he thought that he quite liked it.

———

The throne room was a daunting site. It was spacious with ceilings that stretched up in a trail of glorious wooden beams and dark drapes. It was nearing on being the largest room in the castle, but it seemed larger because, other than the long strip of carpet that led to the four large thrones at the front of the room, there was nothing but empty air filling the large space.

The front two thrones were the larger of the four, and were equipped with large thorn-like spikes that stuck out intimidatingly from the top. They were jet black, a symbol of the family name. In the front two, Orion and Walburga Black sat looking formidable and harsh as they watched Sirius enter the room.

He never knew what to do as he walked down to his place in front of them. At what point did he acknowledge them that wasn’t too soon to the point that he had to continue as he walked on and on down the long stretch of room, or too late that it was obvious he was waiting until he was in front of them? He didn’t know what to do with his eyes either. His parents were obviously staring him down, but he couldn’t exactly do the same back.

Slightly behind the front two thrones sat Remus and Regulus’ somewhat smaller thrones. Regulus was already seated in his, looking bored. Uncharacteristically, he had his arm propped up on the armrest, and his chin was leaning against it, making his face all squashed up. Walburga would have a fit if she saw him doing that, but she sat straight up in her chair unaware of Regulus behind her. Sirius smiled with his head ducked.

Once he was standing in front of them, he bowed his head slightly, first at his father then his mother. He had stopped by his room on the way here to grab his crown and change into something more to his parent’s liking. He stood with his best posture and brought his hands behind his back the same way his knights did when they were standing at attention.

“Father, mother, I apologize for my tardiness, I did not know I was needed this morning,” Sirius said respectfully, his voice echoing around the acoustically pleasing room.

Walburga pursed her blood red lips, her slanted eyes looking sternly at Sirius. Orion leaned back in his seat, nodding in a way that didn’t exactly say it was okay, but still acknowledged Sirius’ words. Regulus sat up in his chair, looking less bored than he had been a second ago.

“We wished to discuss that banquet celebration with you,” Orion explained.

Sirius played with one of his cuff links behind his back and swallowed dryly. “Banquet celebration?” he asked tentatively.

Walburga’s glare grew more disapproving, and Regulus rolled his eyes. Sirius held himself back from pulling a face at him.

“We told you about this yesterday, Sirius. You may have spent the past three months galavanting through the forest, but you are home now, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously,” Walburga hissed.

She said _galavanting_ like instead of tracking down a ruthless gang and participating in an all night battle, Sirius had been partying and having a grand old time. He forced himself not to shift his weight from leg to leg as he stood in front of them since his mother hated when he did that, and he tried to get his words together, finding it hard to not bite back.

“Of course, you’re right. My head was elsewhere yesterday, but it won’t happen again.”

Walburga pursed her lips but nodded. “Because you are seemingly unaware of the banquet that we are throwing in _your_ honor, we’ll fill you in.”

As it turned out, the banquet was just going to be a very long and very fancy meal with all of the noblest families. They were celebrating the defeat of Voldemort, and Sirius was expected to be on his best behavior all evening. He already felt exhausted just thinking about it.

Sirius was excused after what felt like hours of details being relayed to him about the following day, and he turned to get as far away from the room as possible, but before he could make it even halfway, Walburga’s sharp voice stopped him.

“And, Sirius,” she started. Sirius turned around to face her. “You’re almost eighteen. Tomorrow will be a good time to get to know some of the young women that you could potentially wed.”

The shock of her statement shouldn’t have hit Sirius as hard as it did. He had been expecting this for quite some time, and it wasn’t like Sirius hadn’t been hearing comments like that for a while now, but it had never been said so clear and plain as day before. He tried to keep his expression controlled and together as he responded with a, “Yes mother,” but the second he was turned around, he let the worry in.

He had been readying himself for this for a long time, and he thought that perhaps he could do this. Sirius had learned how to fake things since he was very young, and although it was hard to accept the fact that there was no way he could marry someone he was actually attracted to, Sirius thought that maybe he could get by. He had to get by. His parents were expecting him to marry and carry on the family name, his citizens were expecting him to marry and lead them, and so he expected himself to marry and make an heir.

Sirius returned to his chambers to try and get some work done. There was still plenty left to do after the fall of the Death Eaters. Honestly, Sirius thought that his parents were celebrating a bit prematurely and at a very bad time, but he couldn’t exactly argue with them.

The giant stack of papers and scrolls on Sirius’ desk looked intimidating, but nonetheless, Sirius took a seat, readying himself for a long night of paperwork, and letters to be read and replied to, and maps to be studied. As he began, Sirius pulled his hair back out of his face, tossed his crown onto his bed, and unlaced the top of his tunic so that he had room to breathe.

He worked until he could no longer focus on what he was writing anymore and was feeling his eyes drooping as he stared at the never ending scrolls in front of him. His chair made a strange scraping noise as he tiredly pushed it back. He tugged his outer layer of clothes off, freshened up in the bathroom connected to his room, and threw himself into bed.

In the morning, Sirius set out to send his letters, which caused him to be slightly late to a meeting that he was supposed to lead on what was to be done about the stragglers still left supporting Voldemort. The meeting ran much longer than it was meant to, and Sirius found himself being dragged away to his chambers the moment it was over by his royal tailor, Madam Malkin.

Malkin had Sirius stand on a little platform that he was very used to by now, considering she had tailored practically everything he had ever needed to wear as a prince.

“Stop moving,” she scolded as she brought her measuring tape around his arm.

“Is this really necessary?” Sirius asked. “I haven’t grown since the last time you measured me.”

“The last time I measured you was three months ago when you had been on a steady palace diet. I’m sure you must have been eating less on this trip.”

Sirius sputtered out a laugh, resulting in a little swat to his arm to stay still. “Are you implying that I was fat before the trip, or just that I look like I’ve lost weight?”

“I’m not implying anything.”

Madam Malkin had been Sirius’ tailor since he was a young kid. She had graying hair that she kept up in a kept bun at the top of her head and tight pursed lips that creased disapprovingly every time she was in the vicinity of Sirius.

It was enough of a challenge to fake being himself around his parents all the time; Sirius had never bothered around his staff. He just hoped that Malkin didn’t report to his parents about how informal he usually behaved. At least his carefree personality and charm had opened most of the palace staff up to him. Madam Pomfrey had certainly been a tough cookie to crack, but he had successfully done it, and now she was practically motherly with him. Malkin was a whole other story.

“Sit still,” she demanded again.

Sirius straightened up, schooling is breath. He needed to start getting used to behaving the way a prince should again anyways. After three months of being away with his knights whom he thought of as friends, he had almost forgotten how exhausting it was to be home. Almost.

“Much better,” Malkin said, her voice approving.

By the time they were finished, Sirius’ old suit was fitting perfectly in every place imaginable again, and he found himself being sat down in a chair at the end of the room. Some of the palace servants came bustling in. A couple began tending to his hair, neatening it up so that it would look perfect for the night that was to follow.

It was truly ridiculous, the things that Sirius had been forced to let other people do for him since a young age. Technically, Sirius was supposed to have a personal servant that tended to his every need, but Sirius had disbanded the personal servant position years ago, despite his parent's disapproval. Having someone change his clothes for him and help him bathe was just a little too much for Sirius. Of course, Regulus still had his, and Sirius’ mother had an ever-changing servant seeing as she could never be satisfied with the work of one.

“Sire.”

Sirius looked up to see a maid he recognized very well. She had brown hair that was cut into a fitting pixie cut and large searching eyes. Sirius had known Alice Fortescue since they were kids. She moved to the palace after her father died, and her mother came in search of work where she was hired as a cook. Sirius could still remember playing hide and seek in the palace gardens in the back. That is, until his mother put a stop to it. Once Alice was old enough, Sirius got her a job as a maid.

Of course, Walburga hadn’t stopped Sirius from finding ways to spend time with his friend. He spent more time than he really should in the kitchens, mooching croissants from Ms Fortescue while he played card games with Alice under the table away from prying eyes. But his most memorable memory with Alice had to be a night about a year ago.

It hadn’t been a good night. His father was in a very bad mood, and Sirius had made the mistake of questioning him on a new taxing policy that he was implementing at a meeting in front of all of his father’s esteemed colleagues. After the meeting, Orion had dragged Sirius to a closed off room and taken his belt off. Sirius still had the marks on his back.

They crossed paths in the hallway on Sirius’ way back to his room. Alice was on her way to deliver some dirty sheets to the washroom.

Usually, they passed one another with faint nods and slight smiles, but seeing as there was nobody else in the hallway, Sirius had stopped her and ushered her to the very room that Sirius was sitting in at the moment. Of course at the time, nobody else was around.

“Do you know anything about piercing ears?” he had asked once the door was clicked shut.

And she had pierced his ear for him right then and there with only a sterilized sewing needle and a small stud that Sirius had bought on impulse at a market on one of his travels. It was a single piercing right on the cartilage of his ear, and he had loved it solely on the fact that his parents would hate it.

Surprisingly enough, Sirius was able to keep it hidden behind his hair for the time that it took until it wouldn’t close up anymore, and now Sirius found that he only wore it when he was out with the his knights or away from anyone of importance, meaning it had come out the second he got back to the palace a few days ago.

Alice must have noticed because she gave him a crooked smile that could only possible mean that she knew something about him that nobody else in the room did. She was carrying a golden crown in her hands, and Sirius understood why she had addressed him.

With a glance to the woman who had been fixing his hair, he decided it seemed she was done and took the crown from Alice, placing it onto his head. Immediately, a set of hands reached out to fix its position. Sirius struggled to hold in an exasperated sigh.

A knock to the door forced Sirius to turn away from all of the pestering hands. Alice opened the door, and Sirius noticed all of the maids visibility stand up straighter. A quick glance to the door alerted him to Regulus’ presence. His hair was shorter than Sirius’ and swished back so that not a piece was out of place. His crown sat fittingly upon him. He looked ever the prince, and a fleeting pang of jealousy hit Sirius in the stomach.

Regulus had always fit the role of prince better than Sirius, but Sirius was the eldest and carried the responsibility of becoming the future king on his shoulders. Sometimes, he wondered what his life would be like if their roles were reversed. Regulus even walked like a prince, his shoulders straightened and pushed back with perfect posture, every part of his body measured and adjusted so that not a thing was out of place.

When they were younger, they used to get ready for things like this together. It made it more bearable; all of the people messing over them, and all the hands smoothing out every wrinkle in there appearance. They spun around in their chairs and had competitions to see who could get by with small errors in their person without anyone noticing. A hair escaping its place under the crown, or a handkerchief that wasn’t perfectly folded in their front pocket.

Now, Regulus looked at Sirius with careful reserved eyes like they weren’t brothers at all. It was Regulus who had requested they get ready separately a while ago.

“Father is requesting our presence. The Bulstrode’s have arrived early, and we are expected to show their eldest daughter around the castle.” Sirius wanted to crack a joke like they used to, but something about the distant way that Regulus was holding himself and the lack of a glint in his dark eyes told Sirius that it would be inappropriate. “Are you ready?”

Sirius turned towards the maids who had been bustling about a moment ago as if asking if he was ready. One that he didn’t recognize (they were constantly getting new maids and letting go of old ones due to his mother) pulled up a mirror in front of him.

He looked more put together than he had in a long time, and Sirius searched his eyes for something. Anything. He thought that if he looked hard enough, he might see the prince that everybody thought he was, but in all honesty it was just an empty gray stare that looked back at him. He took in a deep and steadying breath, turning towards Regulus.

“I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the boring chapter, I promise that the next one is much more eventful.
> 
> So I saw a photo on pinterest of a guy with a cartilage piercing, and that was where I got my inspiration for that. I've been trying to add photos in here but it's really just not working, so I think I'm going to add some character references onto my tumblr (galxcs) so if anyone wants to check those out, that's where they'll be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, anybody coming from Drunken Nights probably expected this. Thanks for everyone’s “pokes” they motivated me to get writing again. 
> 
> To avoid confusion, the italicized parts in this chapter are flashbacks, and I’m going to continue doing flashbacks like that in order to give pieces of the boy’s past a bit. 
> 
> Warning: during the flashback there is a sort of sexual abuse that happens, and if you need to skip it just skip over the italicized part (it’s not too graphic, but could be a trigger all the same)

It was starting to be easier for Remus to allow Pomfrey or Dorcas to check in on him. There were several bandages that Pomfrey had to unwrap and redo regularly, and Dorcas often came in to offer Remus some form of pain medication. He was still feeling nauseous and occasionally had a random bout of confusion thanks to the concussion, but at least he was getting a little more comfortable being around people. A little.

Dorcas didn’t seem to ever want to stop bringing up the time when Remus had woken up from a nap and asked, “where am I?” He didn’t think it was _that_ funny, but she had laughed for a good minute and passed the story onto James.

Remus didn’t think he was ever going to get used to Dorcas, or James for that matter. They called it “harmless teasing” which was something Remus had never experienced before. He didn’t know if he liked it. He didn’t like the attention, but sometimes it felt like it was helping Remus do this big thing that he kept hearing Pomfrey say to Sirius in hushed tones, or to him as an explanation for his personality shift.

It felt like it was helping him adjust.

Then again, it was quite confusing thinking about James and Dorcas’ behavior. He didn’t know why James came back. He said that he was “bored and didn’t have anything to do.” Dorcas hung around too. There were many times that Pomfrey came in and scolded her for slacking at her job. Each time, Dorcas just insisted that there wasn’t anything that needed to be done, and if there was then Mary would get on it. Remus hadn’t known who Mary was, but he had figured out she was one of Dorcas’ friends who also worked as a healer at the palace like Pomfrey and Dorcas.

Dorcas and James were bringing up random names so often that Remus felt like he was always straggling behind, trying to keep up with them. Sometimes, Dorcas and James talked to each other more than Remus, which was fine with him because he didn’t talk much anyways. Occasionally, one of them would interrupt their story to give a brief summary of whoever they were speaking of, but mostly Remus was left to wonder and fill in the missing pieces himself. 

James brought up Sirius many times, and Remus found himself listening a little more intently at each mention of him. James seemed to be best friends with him, which was surprising to Remus because he didn’t think that princes were supposed to be that close with people of lower classes than them. He wondered if that was just a fact he had created in his mind, or if James and Sirius’ relationship really was rare.

When it came to Dorcas’ stories, hers seemed to focus on Marlene, a knight who Dorcas had described with the same affection that James used when he spoke of Lily. It was strange for Remus to listen to them when they talked about their relationships. He had never really thought about anything even close to romance.

The Wolfpack was made up almost entirely of older men, and the way that they spoke of women did not sound anything like the way Dorcas and James spoke of Lily and Marlene. In fact, the things that the wolves got up to with the girls that they paid from the village to come to camp had left Remus with a very different idea about what relationships were.

_He was in the middle of his evening chores. His hands were stinging and rubbed raw as he washed all the dirty tunics he had been given. He worked quickly, finding the cold river water refreshing against the stinging sores on his palms as he scrubbed shirt after shirt against the smooth river stone._

_He heard Greyback long before he actually arrived, but he didn’t move. He had memorized Greyback’s steps, and he knew stopping or trying to prepare himself for Greyback’s arrival would only worsen things for himself._

_He felt the sharp bite of fingernails against his shoulders before Greyback had even spoken a word. Remus straightened up, but continued his work._

_“Take a break and come with me boy,” Greyback snarled sweetly._

_He steered him to the outskirts of camp. Remus knew what sort of things happened in these tents, and he eyed them warily._

_“Remus.” Greyback turned so that he could place a hand on each of Remus’ shoulders. Remus stood straight, and waited carefully. “I like to think that I’ve raised you and taken care of you more than would ever be required of me; wouldn’t you agree?”_

_Remus looked into Greyback’s shining yellow eyes and dirt-caked face, and he nodded confidently. “Yes.”_

_“Right. There is one thing that every man experiences in my pack, and you boy, should not be denied that experience. You can only be a boy for so long. Do you understand what I’m saying?”_

_“Yes,” Remus lied. He had heard the other wolves talking, and he had seen the hired women moving in and out of the tents, coming in and out of camp, and he had an idea about how things worked, but he also didn’t see the appeal. He had always hoped a day like this wouldn’t have come._

_Fenrir lead Remus to a small brown tent. It felt like it took him an eternity to lift the flap of the tent and step aside to let Remus through. Fenrir closed the tent behind him as he left._

_Remus wasn’t stupid, and he had figured out what Greyback was talking about pretty early on in their conversation, but it was still shocking to be met with the face of the woman inside the tent. She was probably double Remus’ age and wore mask-like makeup across her face. Her eyelids were practically painted black, and her lips were a deep red color. She smelled of cigarettes and alcohol._

_She had a low raspy voice, and the things that she said to Remus only seemed to make him more uncomfortable. Sensing his discomfort, she took her shirt off herself. Remus looked at the roof of the tent. It was bigger than it had looked from the outside._

_“Don’t worry darling, you don’t have to do a single thing,” she said to him in her low smoker’s voice._

_He wanted to stop it. Despite being around all the other wolves, Remus had never desired to do the things that they bragged of doing. He didn’t exactly know much about how the real world outside of the pack worked, but he had heard of “normal relationships” from passerby’s in villages that they moved through (Remus had a great talent for eavesdropping), and while he yearned for the normalcy of a relationship like that, the impracticality of it had struck Remus with the inevitable idea that he would always be alone._

_It didn’t exactly matter what Remus wanted, though. If he didn’t stay in the tent, Greyback would probably beat him, and the rest of the wolves would find out too. The beatings would never end then._

_He couldn’t lie, he was a bit curious, and she was right about him not having to do anything. She took his clothes off for him. It was mostly uncomfortable touching, and by the time she made it to more private places, Remus stopped her. They stayed in the tent for an hour longer after Remus shakily pulled his clothes back on. She didn’t even seem uncomfortable, just bored, and when it was finally long enough that they could leave, Remus asked her if she was going to tell Greyback that they hadn’t done anything._

_She shrugged at him. “Honey, I don’t get paid to talk.” And with a smirk, she left. Remus never found out what her name was._

It wasn’t that the experience had made him completely closed off to thoughts about stuff like that. It was just that there wasn’t really anyone for Remus to think about.

He had been surprised when Dorcas first spoke of Marlene. Suddenly, he understood some of the things Dorcas had said that first night when she had come in to do his stitches. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of two girls being together, he just didn’t know that it was even an option.

It wasn’t like he had ever been around anyone his age before. Well, he supposed there was Peter, but Peter wasn’t exactly even close to attractive, and he talked so much when he was around that Remus didn’t even have time to think about him in that way.

After listening to James and Dorcas for so long, Remus was letting his guard down, and for the first time ever, he wondered if that was really so bad. _Of course it is,_ he reminded himself. Yet again, he blamed his concussion for his stupid thoughts. He would probably be doing that for a while.

“I heard that another one of the Death Eater servants was sent home today,” James voiced conversationally, drawing Remus away from his thoughts.

“Really?” Dorcas responded from her perch on the top of the desk.

“Mhmm.”

There was a long pause, and Remus noticed that James and Dorcas were both looking at him. He didn’t really know what they were expecting from him, so he stayed quiet, staring back at them.

“So,” James finally prompted, “What do you think will happen to you after you’re all healed up?”

Remus shrugged, feeling cornered. He ran through a list of options in his head. He had never seen anyone feel bad for him before until he had told Sirius that his father was killed, and it had been a weird and unexpected thing to say the least. Would Dorcas and James respond the same way? There was only one way to find out.

“Well, my parents were both killed when I was taken, so I don’t really know what they’ll do with me.”

James’ expression grew sad, and Dorcas looked speechless. Remus had been right about their reactions. It was just plain weird.

“Remus, I’m so sorry,” James said, leaning forward like he was going to reach out to him.

Remus leaned away a little too harshly because James instantly dropped his hand, bringing it up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I was young,” Remus responded.

“Yeah, but still. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Well, you couldn’t have known so—”

“Right, but, well,” James stuttered, looking at a loss for words.

“Do you think that you’ll stay and work here?” Dorcas asked, moving the conversation forward. She said it casually.

“Probably not, I doubt that they’ll want an ex-wolf working in such close proximity to the Black family.” Remus didn’t add the fact that he had been a servant his entire life and couldn’t stand the thought of having to be one now that he was finally free of Greyback.

“Right, I didn’t think of that,” Dorcas responded.

“Well, you weren’t _really_ a wolf, though, right? I mean, you didn’t really have a choice,” James said.

Remus shrugged. He might not have held allegiance to the wolves, but it _was_ all he had ever known. Besides, he had the mark all the same.

Eventually, conversation turned to Dorcas and James’ excitable storytelling again, and Remus went back to staying silent, only adding an occasional comment when it was appropriate or he was addressed.

After a little bit, James jumped up from Sirius’ chair. Remus didn’t know why he had taken to calling it that in his head, but he had. After all, Sirius was the one who had dragged it so close to Remus’ bed, and although James had brought it back and flipped it around, Remus couldn’t help but think of it as the chair that Sirius sat in while he was painfully getting his stitches redone.

“There’s a big banquet tonight, and I’m on duty soon, so I’ve got to head out,” James said.

“I should get going too; Pomfrey will have a row at me if she finds out I’ve been in here all day,” Dorcas added.

Dorcas left first, and just before James walked out the door, he turned around.

“You’re pretty cool, Remus. I hope you stick around the palace for a while.”

Remus heard the sound of the door click, and soft steps leaving down the hall.

———

“He woke up and asked where he was?”

James burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Yeah! Isn’t that hilarious!”

“Uhh…”

“Yeah, now hush. It’s rude to interrupt people in the middle of their stories.”

“James, with all due respect, I don’t really have time for this. I’m supposed to be giving Millicent Bulstrode a tour of the castle as we speak.”

James sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “ _Fine_ , go do whatever it is that princes do.”

Sirius had run into James on the way to the common room where he was supposed to pick up Millicent, and he couldn’t help but pull him aside quickly to ask if he knew anything about how Remus was doing. He knew he didn’t owe anything to Remus, but he still felt bad for not having checked in on him for a while, and he didn’t think he would be able to anytime soon. What he hadn’t been expecting was for James to say that he had spent the entire morning with him and unleash a long winded story on him. Sirius was just glad that Remus seemed to be doing as well as he could be.

On the other hand, Sirius himself was not feeling too good at all. He made his way to where Millicent was waiting for him faster than he would have hoped.

Regulus was already there, and they were talking politely as Sirius entered, but Millicent’s eyes lit up when Sirius arrived.

The first thing that Sirius noticed about her were the jewels. She was covered from head to toe in them. They sparkled in every place that they could possibly be put: embedded in the hem of her dress, taking up the entirety of the top of her high heels, hanging extravagantly from around her neck, and dangling from her ears. Sirius didn’t miss the way she eyed his crown as he walked up.

Regulus and Millicent stood up at Sirius’ arrival, and Sirius gave a small bow, a slight tip of his torso, taking hold of Millicent’s hand. It was clammy and smelled of strong lotions, but Sirius kissed the top of it anyways, schooling his expression.

“Millicent, my greatest apologies for the wait. It’s been a busy day,” he spoke smoothly.

“No worries, Regulus here kept me entertained,” she said with a shrilly voice. Regulus didn’t seem too pleased to be labeled as entertainment, but he kept his air of elegance.

“Shall we show you around the palace now?”

Millicent grew a confused face, her nose scrunching up. “I was told it would be just you showing me around.”

“Oh yes, brother, I’ve been summoned to take care of some last-minute planning in the Great Hall, so I’ll be off. I’m sure you can manage to show Millicent around on your own?” Regulus explained. He seemed impatient, like his head was already out the door ‘taking care of his last minute planning.’

Sirius wondered how Regulus spoke with such control in his words. He thought that anybody would listen to him no matter what he was saying, and he tried to mimic the tone as he responded.

“Of course. We’ll be back before the others arrive.”

Regulus nodded and left the room, his dress shoes creating a powerful cadence against the marble floors as he walked.

“After you,” Millicent said.

They started with the basic parts of the castle. Sirius took her to the ballroom and the other common rooms. He stopped to give random pieces of trivia about the paintings they passed or the sculptures. Millicent pretended to be interested. Sirius noticed that she was not as good at pretending as he and Regulus were.

“What’s your favorite part of the palace?” Millicent asked as they walked.

It was a surprising question. She hadn’t seemed like a personable person and had yet to return any of the questions that Sirius had given her.

Sirius smiled a charming and practiced smile. “I quite like the astronomy tower. It’s the tallest tower, and it has the best view of the stars at night.”

“Sounds romantic,” Millicent said, giving Sirius a look that he thought was supposed to be flirtatious.

“Possibly,” he responded, a bit of his even tone thrown off balance. “But I find it’s a good place to go to be alone.”

Millicent pursed her lips at this, looking unsatisfied. They continued to walk. Sirius reminded himself that he was supposed to use tonight to choose a future wife, but he was having a hard time wanting to get to know Millicent any better.

“Tell me about yourself,” Sirius forced himself to say.

Turns out, they had practically nothing in common except that they both liked horseback riding, but Sirius assumed Millicent had only said that after he voiced his favor towards it so that they didn’t seem completely different.

Eventually, they finished with everything that Sirius could think was of any interest at all. “Was there anything else that you wished to see?”

“I could go for a stroll through the gardens.”

 _No,_ Sirius wanted to say. No, the gardens were his place. No, the gardens were where he had played hide and seek with Reggie when they were kids, where he had begged Alice to play tag with him, and where he now took refuge to escape the castle’s confining walls and suffocating air. _No._

“This way,” Sirius said.

At some point, Millicent had taken his arm even though he hadn’t offered it, but he knew it would be rude to pull away.

They left the castle and made their way down a stretching path that had beautifully trimmed bushes on either side of them. Sirius reminded himself to tell Promona Sprout—the lovely woman who had been in charge of taking care of the castle’s gardens for some time now—that she was doing a wonderful job.

“I heard of your successful feat against Voldemort,” Millicent brought up. “You must be very brave to have fought the Death Eaters and the wolves at the same time.”

“Well, I had my knights to fight with me,” Sirius replied.

“Of course, but you lead the attack. I heard that they hadn’t even stood a chance.”

Sirius thought about it, and while Millicent was right, there was one reason and one reason only that the knights of Hogwarts had fared so well that night, and he was laying in a hospital bed deep in the halls of the castle. If the Death Eaters and wolves hadn’t all been circled up in the same spot, it would have been much harder for them to have won.

“No they didn’t, but it was a hard fought battle. There were many sacrifices that had to be made for us to have won the way we did.”

Millicent nodded like she understood what Sirius meant by sacrifices. “So what happens to the people who surrender?” she asked. Her high pitched voice was really starting to get on Sirius’ nerves.

“They’re in the dungeons right now being interrogated. They’ll stand trial. And the innocents were taken back and cared for here to be returned to their families.”

They took a turn down a particular trail that Sirius had grown fond of. The flowers were stunning, and there was a bench hidden under a weeping willow tree that he spent more time than he would like to admit sitting in as he did his work or just tried to clear his head.

“Innocents? Weren’t you in the woods with only bad guys?”

Sirius thought that the way she said bad guys sounded childish. “That’s what we thought, but the Death Eaters had many servants they had been forcing to work for them, all trafficked at a young age.”

Sirius left out mention of Remus. Technically, his parents weren’t supposed to know about him. If they found out that Sirius had deliberately rescued a wolf _and_ had been spending money on medicine and care for him, they would have his head, regardless of the fact that Remus wasn’t actually with the Wolfpack. Remus didn’t know that he was a secret to be kept, but Sirius assumed he had caught on a bit by now.

Millicent thought about Sirius’ words for a second before replying, “Well surly if they were taken so young and raised by such vial people for so long, they can’t possibly be let free.”

Sirius’ steps faltered. “Why do you say so?” he asked, his voice sounding too polite for how he was feeling.

“They must have ill intent by now. They could be a threat to the throne, to you. You could be letting disloyal people roam the streets of Hogwarts.”

“These people were taken and abused when they were just _teenagers_.” Sirius thought of Remus who was much younger. “And you suggest that…what? Because they have been around Death Eaters for so long, they should be treated as such? Some of them were so terrified when we found them that they couldn’t speak.”

His words were nowhere near the calm level words that he had been trying to maintain all day. They were sharp and clipped, and Sirius had come to a full stop in the middle of the garden. Millicent pursed her lips.

“Well maybe it suits them right. They could have tried to escape or fought back. They sound like cowards to me.”

Sirius felt his face growing warm as he listened to Millicent. His tie suddenly felt too tight, and his suit coat too hot. He thought of Remus and the scars that littered his body. He thought of the way he flinched away from his touch. Most of the Death Eater servants had been female, and Sirius didn’t like to think about the vial things the Death Eaters had probably done to them. He felt a white-hot rage towards the girl in front of him. How could she say such things?

“Well, what do you know about bravery? Who are you to say that they’re cowards?” Sirius snapped, his voice angry. Millicent looked taken aback, her eyes growing wide as she looked at Sirius in shock. “I’m sure you haven’t had even an ounce of the hardships that those people have had, and I’m willing to bet that they did try and escape; they certainly have the scars to prove it. How can you say that it suits them right?”

Suddenly, Millicent’s gaze went cold, and she stepped back. “I think you ought to take me back now.”

“Gladly,” Sirius said with cold indignation.

———

Remus hadn’t thought it was possible to be this bored in his entire life. Never before had he had nothing to do. No endless chores, no training that needed to be done, no traveling through villages and forests. Yet here Remus found himself, laying around in complete boredom.

Dorcas hadn’t stopped by for a while, and James would be gone the rest of the day at the banquet that was supposed to be happening at the moment. Remus found himself staring at the white ceilings, his thoughts flickering from random subject to subject.

He couldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t thought about what was going to happen to him after he was healed and could leave the palace, but he did try to quit thinking about it whenever the thought came to mind because it only seemed to scare him. He would have no money, no job, and no place to stay. Plus, on top of all of that, he had very little understanding of the world outside of the Wolfpack, and probably not the best social skills.

Remus caught himself worrying again, but he couldn’t push the topic away this time. There was something about a silent room that forced him into thoughts that he was usually so good at keeping tucked away.

It had taken a while to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t at the palace to be imprisoned or interrogated. It took him even longer to accept that he was going to be free eventually, but once he had, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wondered where he would go.

There was his parents farm that he could barely remember. He probably wouldn’t be able to find it, and even if he did, it was no use. The farm was probably someone else’s now, or even worse: something else. It wasn’t an option, but thinking about it again did make Remus curious about what became of it.

On the other hand, he couldn’t stay in the upper village near the palace. He would need a good job for that, and even then, he would hate living there. Too many people, too much going, and too close to the palace.

He thought maybe he could head east and try to find one of the small outlying towns that he had passed through with some of the wolves. There had to be someone who would hire him as a farmhand or an apprentice for something or another.

Remus let out a long sigh, bringing up his hand to comb through his hair. It still felt weird to be able to do that without getting caught in a knot of tangles. He thought about all the things that had changed since under a week ago.

He felt like he had back when he was first captured by Greyback; his life turning upside down in the blink of an eye. Although when he was captured, it had been a change for the worse. Remus tried to tell himself that something terrible would come out of this change too, but he didn’t see what could possibly be worse than having to be with the Wolfpack.

How could this be? For the past few days, Remus had eaten three full meals each day. He hadn’t done any chores, had any beatings, or woken up before the sun had even risen. He hadn’t heard the sound of Fenrir’s snarling voice or felt his sharp fingernails digging into his shoulders.

Not to mention (not like he was letting his guard down or anything), but he couldn’t get James’ carefree jokes, Dorcas’ casual conversation, or Sirius’ kind and concerned eyes out of his head. Remus even enjoyed Pomfrey’s presence despite how much he told himself he didn’t and despite the fact that his body still didn’t seem to be ready to be around people yet.

It was strange how his mind was reacting to being away from Greyback. He was in a presumably much better place now, he knew that, but he didn’t seem to be reacting that way.

He felt like every hour that passed away from the Pack forced Remus back into a corner that he had never been in before. It was dark and only ever flashed with images when something triggered them. Like when somebody moved to touch him, or he was woken from his sleep by a voice. There was something else in that corner too, and it creeped up on him at random times, sending Remus spiraling into a pile of feelings he was quite used to but not exactly like this. Those feelings didn’t used to be so uncontrollable—the pain, fear, sadness, loss, anxiety—but it was like the part of Remus’ brain that had stayed strong (pulled along only by adrenaline and the need to survive) had suddenly been turned off.

Remus didn’t know what to think about any of that. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t exactly anything he could do about it. He just hoped that eventually it would pass, and he would just stop feeling like this.

He hadn’t felt the same since arriving at the palace…except. No, he hadn’t felt the same since arriving at the palace, but there had been a few moments when he had actually felt _better_ than the same. The fact that those times had only ever been when Sirius was around was unavoidable.

It was something about the dark-haired prince that forced away some of the creatures that lurked with Remus in his newfound corner. Maybe it was the way his eyes shone so brightly when he laughed; they were too warm for the place that Remus’ mind had retracted to. Maybe it was the way that he had touched Remus, lingering but never harmful. A touch like that did not belong among the darkness.

It was easier to think about Sirius than all of his worries and doubts. An image of him came naturally. Remus had a spectacular memory, a product of Fenrir Greyback’s spiteful punishments for forgetting things, but Remus supposed that even if he didn’t have his memory, Sirius’ face wasn’t one to forget. He hadn’t seen anything like it in all his years.

His skin was clear like the springs that Remus used to gather water from, and his eyelashes were dark like the parts of a leaf that were hidden away from the moonlight at nightfall, fanning out over his sharp cheekbones. James, Dorcas, and Sirius were some of the first people he had met his age, but Remus’ mind didn’t get caught on the image of James or Dorcas like it did with Sirius.

He tried not to think about why that was, and eventually, he found himself drifting off into sleep like he so often did when he was alone now. He hadn’t thought he could sleep this much in his entire life, but supposedly he had a lot that he needed to catch up on.

He didn’t know how long he slept before the sound woke him.

Loud footsteps pounding against the stone floors out in the hallway. From somewhere even further; loud shouting. Remus sat up, tipping his ears towards the door to try and catch more. In the distance, Remus picked out the distinct sound of metal clashing against metal, and _was that screaming_?

Every hair on Remus’ body stood on edge, and Remus tugged the blankets away from his legs. He clenched his teeth in pain, and swayed as he pushed himself to his feet, clutching at the bedpost. He still had a pleasant dose of some kind of a strong medicine that Pomfrey had given him floating around in his system, and it made his head feel a bit dizzy.

Whatever was happening outside did not sound good, and there was no way Remus was going to lay around like a sitting duck. He had gotten a little more used to being on his feet as a result to his insistence on not needing help to the bathroom, and he moved slowly to a cabinet in the corner where he had discovered Madame Pomfrey kept all the fun tools.

He pulled out the first one his eyes landed on; a silver scalpel that fit well in his hands. He flipped it in his fingers once, judging the weight of his new weapon and wishing he still had his nice hunting knives.

The sounds had grown louder in the hallway, and Remus hobbled to the doorway, pressing his back all the way against the wall so that if anyone entered the room, he could easily disarm them. He relied on his ears for a while, picking out words coming from the corridor through the thick castle walls. It was hard to make things out, but he caught onto some of the louder phrases like, “Behind you!” and, “Duck!”

Everything still sounded a good bit away from the hospital wing, but eventually, the screaming grew louder, and feet ran up and down the hallways. Suddenly, his ears caught onto something else. It was a hurried running, heading right towards his door.

He squeezed the scalpel tighter in his grip, the door handle slid down, Remus breathed in a deep breath, somebody came barreling into the room, and Remus struck.

He pushed forward on his good leg, twisting around so that he could latch onto the newcomers arm, knocking their sword out of their hands, and then shoving the scalpel right against their neck while simultaneously pushing them back against the wall.

His mind went fuzzy, his leg throbbed, his ribs ached, and suddenly the pain and his quick movements caused a head rush to cloud his vision.

While Remus’ vision was blurry, his opponent brought their hand up, grabbed onto Remus’ forearm that was reached out towards their neck, and tugged Remus’ body around so that there was an arm around him and a chest pressing against his back, all in one swift motion. Remus’ sight unclouded in time to watch a hand grab firmly to his wrist like they were going to bend it until he dropped the scalpel. Something in Remus’ stomach shifted at the sight of the hand circled around his wrist.

He had held that hand before.

“He went around this corner!” a gruff voice shouted from the hallway.

“Fuck,” Sirius muttered against Remus’ ear. “Remus, it’s me, Sirius. Don’t stab me.”

Remus sucked in a shaky breath, his grip tightening on the scalpel. “What the hell is going on?”

Sirius shook his head behind him and let out a sigh that Remus could feel on the back of his neck. “It’s a long story.”


	6. Chapter 6

The walk back from the gardens with Millicent was awkward at best. Sirius' arm felt like it was burning where her clammy hand was holding on just barely to the fabric of his tailored suit.

The authoritarian duties that came along with being a prince whispered sternly to Sirius, reminding him that he had an audience. He kept his head high and allowed the clammy—growing metaphorically hotter—hand on his sleeve to stay. His own morality whispered to him too, constructing and twisting around the contempt deep inside his chest, not just for this girl who happened to be holding his sleeve, but for all of the girls who would happen to be holding his sleeve in the future. His duties beat out his morality, and he quietly lead Millicent to her seat in the Great Hall, giving her a polite farewell for the guests around them to see. She sneered in response. Supposedly, she had not had the same authoritarian duty drilled into her that Sirius had.

The Great Hall was a vast and ornately decorated room with five long tables stretching from one side of the room to the other. One table stretched out a different way in front of the other three, and that was where they would be dining for the night. The table was already set, beautiful dishes with intricately carved silverware surrounding the plates.

A sparkling gold chandelier dangled from the ceiling above the table, lighting the room's every corner in a glittering and extravagant manner. Lining the perimeter, there were guards all at attention, staring straight ahead of them. He quickly scanned the guards to see who was on duty. It seemed that a larger number of his mothers personal knights had been assigned to tonight than usual, but Sirius did spot a few of his own knights.

The palace had five different groups that the knights could be in. There were regular guards, and then each of the four royals had their own unit trained under their command. Sirius was eleven years old the first time his father made him lead a training session.

Sirius scanned for James who was on duty, and once he saw him, he felt a little calmer. There were also servers and maids around the room, all waiting to be summoned to fill a glass of water, or get more napkins before the dinner started. Ushers were bringing the guests in slowly, taking them to their seats.

The table was wide enough that there were two large seats at each end of the table. Sometimes they split it up so that the king and Sirius were at one end while Regulus and the queen were at the other, but today it looked like Sirius had been set up to sit next to Regulus.

Sirius exited the room, walking swiftly towards the entrance where he could help welcome their guests and escort people inside. He shook more hands than he could count and suffered through a few awkward hugs before he spotted his uncle Alphard.

He was happy to see him, but Sirius worried what his parents would think of him being there. Alphard had left the Royal family at a young age to live on the countryside with a peasant boy that he had met while he was a prince at the palace. Sirius didn't like to think of the names he had heard his mother calling him behind his back and to his face. The same names that she would call Sirius if she knew that he also quite liked the idea of running off with a handsome young boy. Luckily for Alphard, he had not been the heir to the throne.

Sirius made a beeline towards Alphard, desperately hoping he could make small talk with him instead of suffering through a conversation with yet another young woman who he was supposed to be "getting to know".

"Sirius, my boy!" Alphard exclaimed loudly, slapping a hand against his back.

Alphard had on a salmon suit coat and light pants that stood out against the blacks and navy blues around them. It was brilliant.

Sirius threw on an easy smile, but tried to stay a little more proper than his uncle was being. There were still guests around them. "Uncle, it's good to see you again."

Alphard squeezed Sirius' hand with both of his own and Sirius didn't know what to do, so he just sort of let him, standing there a tad awkwardly with his hand extended, but also entertained.

"The palace looks magnificent as ever," Alphard effused, "and you've grown so much since I last saw you."

Sirius laughed, a nice even chuckle that he had learned made girls swoon and guests feel comfortable. He had heard the "you've grown so much" thing numerous times already tonight, and he never quite knew how to respond, but that was the thing about being a prince; you weren't allowed to not know how to respond to something.

"Yes, it is quite splendid. I never get used to it," Sirius answered. "How is Xander doing?"

"Oh, you know my Xander. Always getting himself into trouble, always telling stories. Well, I guess you don't know that, but hey now you do!" Alphard guffawed.

"He sounds like a nice guy."

"Oh he is! He's always good to me. You know, Sirius," Alphard placed a hand on Sirius' shoulders, eyes growing intent, "I hope that one day you find someone like Xander for yourself. You might think you don't have much of a choice in the matter, but you always have a choice!"

Sirius quite disagreed with Alphard about having a choice, but he nodded his head. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say."

As they moved closer towards the Great Hall, Alphard continued to speak boisterously, and Sirius really wondered how it was possible that this man was related to his parents.

"I didn't bring Xander with me, sadly. We both thought it best, considering, well you know your parents."

Sirius chuckled, a little darker than he had meant to. "Believe me, I understand.

Alphard smirked besides Sirius. "I know you do."

Sirius had never talked to Alphard about his sexuality. It would be wildly inappropriate as the prince, and he never really had a time that he could anyways, but he had suspected that Alphard knew. It always seemed implied when they had conversations, and Alphard knew that Sirius was the only one in the family who seemed warm towards him.

Once Alphard had found his seat, his hand wrapped lightly around Sirius' arm, and he looked up at him earnestly. "You know, Sirius, you're always welcomed a visit with me and Xander at our cottage. It's secluded, and you would find yourself unbothered. Come anytime."

Sirius smiled gratefully at his uncle. The idea of spending a few days with just Alphard and Xander, away from the palace, was a very tempting image, but he knew he would never be able to pull himself away from his parents long enough to make it possible. "Thank you very much, that it very hospitable of you."

They parted ways, and Sirius went back to speaking with guests and being introduced to new people. He wished he had a better memory because he was already losing track of the names that he had memorized.

When the first course was brought out, Sirius took a seat next to Regulus, and they both ate in silence. The people around them seemed to start to notice their disdain towards each other, and Regulus lifted his head.

"How was your walk with Millicent?" he asked politely.

"It was fine."

Sirius saw Regulus narrow his eyes in his peripheral as he continued cutting the food in front of him. "She seemed upset when you returned."

"We had a slight disagreement."

"What sort of a disagreement?"

"Nothing worthy of conversation at a dinner table," Sirius responded coolly, taking a large swig of wine.

Regulus tipped his head, turning towards Sirius in a way that blocked his cold expression from the rest of the table, but Sirius could still see it.

"You know, you really ought to be taking things more seriously."

"Look Reggie, I am taking this seriously. It's just not going to work out between me and Millicent, okay? There are plenty of other young women for me to speak to."

"Whatever you say," Regulus mumbled. "And don't call me Reggie."

A server came around to refill their drinks and take their plates, and eventually the second course was brought out. The night dragged on and on. Sirius' father kept pulling Sirius from his seat to sit across from new ladies, and by the fifth course, he was exhausted and didn't want to talk to one more person.

He plopped back down in his seat for what felt like the hundredth time, drinking more of his wine. There was a second where Sirius looked up over the table, and he saw everyone eating and socializing, the orange light shining over the perfectly groomed faces of their chattering guests.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The large double doors swung open dramatically. Regulus turned slightly in his seat, a few of the knights towards the door startled at the interruption, and then there were swords being buried into their flesh.

The palace bells went off shortly after that.

Sirius felt his body moving into action before his brain had caught up to what was happening. He was the first to stand among the people at the table, and he drew his sword, a dark and elegant sword that was perfectly balanced and had been hand crafted to go with his dress clothes.

The knights sprang into action around them, racing towards the door to meet the anger-driven men that were racing forward. Sirius went to advance, to help, but a hand landed on his shoulder. It was Regulus. There were a few guards around them already, ready to bring them to the royal safe room immediately.

"Don't do anything stupid," Regulus said, his eyes tearing into Sirius'.

Sirius looked at the door just once, at the fighting and the chaos, but he nodded solemnly and turned with Regulus and the knights. He knew his place as the prince. He was joined with his parents and the four of them made their way to the corner of the room, surrounded by a square of guards. Sirius hated it. He should be fighting alongside his men.

There was a secret passageway hidden in an alcove in the room that opened up into a long staircase down into a protected cellar, but just as Sirius was about to go forward, the sound of screaming and metal clashing behind him, a thought entered his mind.

 _Remus_.

Sirius hadn't gotten a good look at the enemy yet, but if they were leftover Wolves, or even Death Eaters, would they recognize Remus? Would they even make their way to the hospital wing? He had overheard one of the knights saying that they were all over the castle.

He knew that the people in the hospital wing had their own passages to hide in, but would they be able to help Remus to them? Sirius had _promised_ him that he was safe at the palace. No matter how stupid or useless it was, Sirius couldn't help it. The decision was already made.

He glanced behind him and looked at the fighting happening all over, measuring his next move. A hand landed on his left arm, and then another hand at his right. The guards had taken hold of him, and were ushering him sternly towards the door. He looked up and noticed his mother glancing back at him quickly. The guards weren't holding onto Regulus.

Something was wrong.

A quick glance at the knights told him that none of them were in his division of knights. Regulus glanced over at Sirius, and then sent a confused look his parents' way.

Sirius couldn't waste time thinking about how strange it all was. As swiftly as possible, he twisted out of the left guards' grip. The right one took notice and tightened their hold, but Sirius was ready for that.

"Unhand me! I am the crowned prince, and I command you to unhand me!" he shouted.

Technically, his parents had a higher say than him, but he had found that this technique at least startled the knight into loosening their grip, and Sirius had always been one for theatrics. He took off in a sprint, moving quickly away from the group.

"Sirius!" he heard his mother screech.

"Go on without me! I'll be okay," he called back, dodging the arms that tried to slip out and grab him.

He could hear his mother sending the guards after him, so he sprinted as fast as he could back towards the door, and they all got lost in the chaotic crowd. He pulled his crown off to leave at the door. It was like a giant red target on his back, and he didn't need it getting in the way.

Sirius dodged past the fights that were taking place, stopping only to help out a knight quickly. He spotted James in the midst of the chaos. Unsurprisingly, he looked like he was getting on just fine, enjoying himself even as he took on two people against him.

James was fine, but Remus might not be, and that thought drew Sirius to sprint faster. He almost stopped in his tracks at the sight of the palace once he got out of the Great Hall. There was fighting everywhere, and the floors were littered in torn paintings and knocked over knights of armor. How had this happened? The palace security was better than this. They should have had even better security on a night like this with so many guests.

As he turned the corner, a dagger went flying past his face, landing in the wall behind him. A tall woman approached him, looking menacing under her dirt caked face. There was a Dark Mark tattooed against her arm. So these _were_ Death Eaters. How was that possible? Voldemort was dead, and the Death Eater's had been killed or captured. There must have been more out there than they had thought.

The woman came flying at Sirius, and Sirius drew his sword, taking in her fighting style as he moved. He was very used to the style of Death Eater's and Wolves. He had spent months following them, and months before that studying their tactics, and he made quick work of her, knocking her out against the wall.

He sheathed his sword again and decided on going more stealthily. By the time he made it to the hospital wing, he was getting nervous. What if it was too late? He turned down a hall, keeping his back towards the walls. It looked like a few people had swept through the area, but it wasn't nearly as touched as the areas closer to the Great Hall.

There was a large open room with light streaming down through the the windows and cots set up and down it where most of the patients went. Although most cases went here, there were a few medical rooms down one hall for special cases, or in Remus' case: dangerous Wolves.

The room was clear, and Sirius felt his shoulders lighten. Maybe they had all gotten to safety after all. The fear came tumbling back when a low groaning sound came from the corner of the room behind a large desk. Sirius found himself creeping over to the source of the noise, feet light and hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it if he needed to. As he rounded the corner poised to strike, his mouth instantly fell, and he dropped to his knees.

"Poppy!" Sirius gasped.

Pomfrey was laying on her side, her hand squeezed tight over a wound in her stomach. Bright red blood was spilling out over the polished floors like fallen rose petals.

"What happened?" he leaned forward, but he didn't exactly know what to do.

"Your Highness, you shouldn't be here. You should be hiding already," she gasped, her bloody hands reaching up towards Sirius like him being there was causing her more pain than her wound.

Sirius felt blood smear across his cheek as her fingers met his face. His nose filled with the scent of iron and rust; his heart filled with stone. It didn't look good.

"Poppy, tell me what happened," Sirius insisted, ignoring her warning.

"The bells went off, and we immediately started getting the patients to the safe room. We were almost done when they made it to this wing. She told me not to, but I had to get to the rest," Pomfrey let off with a sob, her words growing weaker.

"Hey, stay with me. Who told you not to? Who haven't you gotten down yet?”

"Dorcas, she told me not to. It's all my fault.”

"What's your fault? It's okay, Poppy, you can tell me.”

"We got separated. She came with me to help, but now I don't know where she is, and the patients in the side rooms aren't down yet."

It looked like Pomfrey couldn't keep speaking at the risk of wasting her energy or just sobbing some more, so Sirius stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Hey, shh. It's okay. I'm going to get you out of here, and then I'm going to find Dorcas."

Sirius couldn't think about the fact that Poppy had just admitted Remus was still in his room, and Dorcas was lost, and there were more patients to get to safety. He could only think about the task at hand.

"Sirius…You have to get to safety." Pomfrey muttered as Sirius wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up against him.

"Not until everybody else is safe."

The hospital wing passage was hidden behind a large lion statue. He fumbled with opening it, finding it difficult with Poppy in his arms, but once the statue slid aside, he entered quickly, moving down the stairs with careful steps. It was a long way down.

Sirius thought of Remus and Dorcas. He picked up his pace tenfold.

There were guards at the door, swords in hand. When they saw it was Sirius, they dropped their swords to their sides immediately, throwing open the door.

"Your Highness," one of them said, bowing.

Sirius passed Poppy off to the other one. "She's been injured. See to it that someone takes care of her."

He turned back around, ready to race back up the stairs. If what Poppy had said was true, Dorcas and Remus could be in worse shape than she was. The guards and Poppy protested behind him as he turned to leave.

"Sire! It's our duty to protect you. You must stay here!"

Sirius turned around to face the guard. He lowered his voice in what he hoped was an intimidating yet commanding tone. "Right now, your duty is to protect the people inside this safe room and stay at your posts. Do you understand?"

They nodded in unison. "Yes, Sire."

Once the guard with Poppy made it inside, and Sirius knew she was safe, he sprinted back up the steps, taking them two at a time. He peaked out of the passage as he left, but there wasn't anyone in sight. Just as he stepped out, a sound drew him around, and there, in the entranceway, stood a man who towered way above everything else. There was a swirling symbol on his shirt. A Giant.

"There he is!" The Giant called.

Sirius pulled out his sword. He could stay and fight the Giant who was also now backed up by someone much smaller, but also still menacing, or he could…

Sirius turned and sprinted down the hallway. He heard their footsteps pounding behind him, and he turned quickly, pulling open Remus' door before they could see that was the room he had entered, and he fell inside.

He let out a breath of relief at evading the Giant for the time being, but it didn't last long. There was a tiny second where his heart dropped upon seeing the empty bed. Remus was taken. Remus was killed. Something happened to Remus. Sirius had promised him.

His worries were whipped away from him as soon as they had come as a biting pain found Sirius' arm, and he heard his sword clatter to the ground. Sirius looked up just in time to see Remus jumping forward, arms pushing him back against the wall, and a sharp little knife met Sirius' neck, almost close enough to draw blood.

His mind reeled, shocked at what had happened. In training, Sirius had learned to never let his guard down, but somehow Remus had knocked his weapon from his hand _and_ backed him up in a corner, all while being injured.

Sirius' first thought was one that had his heart pounding in his chest. Remus wasn't who he said he was. He had been waiting for the siege, and this was his chance to rejoin his people.

He was going to kill Sirius.

Sirius looked up, calculating his escape, but he didn't have to think long because he felt Remus tip forward a bit closer, and his head dropped forward like he was about to pass out. There was a dazed expression in his face, and Sirius realized he hadn't even noticed that it was Sirius who he had disarmed.

Sirius took the opportunity to push forward, grab Remus' arm, and twist it around so that Sirius was behind him, ready to use Remus' weapon against him, or put him in a chokehold. He did neither, of course.

"He went around this corner!" Sirius heard the Giant who had been chasing him shout from the hallway.

"Fuck," he muttered. What were they going to do? He needed to calm Remus down, so they could get out of there."Remus, it's me, Sirius."

Sirius felt Remus suck in a deep breath in his arms, and his hand tightened on the weapon.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked.

Sirius felt his head shaking, and he couldn't contain his sigh. He thought about the screams that had filled the Great Hall, and the blood-stained floor where Pomfrey had lain, and the fact that he still had no idea where Dorcas was.

"It's a long story."

———

Remus would have loosened his hold on the scalpel, he really would have, but Sirius' arm was still wrapped around him, restraining him, and his hand was still around his wrist, ready to injure it of he so wanted to, and Remus' brain panicked.

His elbow went flying back, knocking against Sirius stomach, and a loud grunt escaped Sirius mouth, sounding stifled. Remus tried to use the moment to twist away from Sirius, but holy shit he was strong.

"Let go of me," Remus hissed, thrashing in his arms.

Instantly, Sirius' arm dropped from around Remus, and he stepped away, holding his hands up in front of him. He didn't reach for the sword that Remus had knocked from his hand. Remus looked down at his hands and noticed they were extended towards Sirius, the scalpel pointing towards his chest. He didn't remember doing that. Sirius didn't reach for the sword that Remus had knocked from his hand.

Instead, Sirius' eyes filled with regret, and he took an unsettling step backwards.

For the first time since Sirius' arrival, Remus noticed what he was wearing. It was a perfectly tailored suit that was somehow even darker than his jet black hair. Ribbons decorated the front, significant to his achievements, and a perfectly crafted belt and sheath hung from around his waist. There was blood smeared against his cheeks, sweat above his lips and resting on his forehead, and his hair was curling messily around his ears, stray pieces falling into his face.

Remus had never seen someone more beautiful.

"Remus, please. You don't want to do this. You can come with me. I can make sure you're safe; I promised you I'd keep you safe. You don't have to go back with them," Sirius was pleading, and his hands were out in front of him like he was trying to ease Remus, but the words could have been in another language for how little Remus understood.

He felt the hold on his scalpel loosening. He felt his hands dropping a bit. "I-go back with them?"

Confusion swept over Sirius' face, and slowly, he took a step forward. Remus brought the scalpel back up, but he didn't take a step back.

"Tell me you're not with them. Tell me you don't want to kill me." Sirius' voice was hesitance and nerves. It was shaking with his hands. His eyes were the same dark and kind eyes Remus had grown used to.

Remus dropped the scalpel to his side. "I don't want to kill you," he breathed. "And I don't know who you keep talking about."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief and moved to grab his sword. Remus didn't know why he let him or why the relief in Sirius' face made something in his heart lurch forward.

"We have to move _now_ ," Sirius said.

His gaze dropped to Remus' bandaged leg, and he stepped forward, arm outstretched as if to help support him, but Remus could still feel the panic of almost losing a fight deep in his chest, and he took a startled step backwards, shaking his head because he didn't know how else to tell Sirius that the thought of being touched right now was terrifying him, was eating him inside, was going to make him lose his mind because he wished so desperately that he wasn't like this.

Sirius dropped his hands, his eyes filling with panic. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but his words came short as Remus shot his head towards the door.

The distinct sound of footsteps running towards the room filled his ears, and Remus turned to Sirius. "Someone's coming."

Sirius didn't question how Remus knew that, but he did reach out for a second like he was going to drag Remus somewhere. His hands dropped quickly when he noticed what he was doing.

By now, Remus had realized that Sirius was the type of person who just grabbed onto people and tugged them along behind him, moving first, and answering questions later.

Sirius shook his head, looking annoyed. He seemed like he was arguing with himself in his head, and then he pressed forward, tucking his arm around Remus' waist to help drag him towards the closet at the side of the room.

"I'm _so_ sorry, don't stab me," Sirius mumbled again, hand tight on Remus hip.

Remus forced himself to ignore every alarm going off in his head and every ounce of fear filling his body because he knew Sirius was right, and he knew he needed to be strong right then.

Once they were inside, Remus stepped back from Sirius, propping himself up with his hand on a shelf and breathing hard.

"We can take them," Remus argued, tipping his head towards Sirius.

He saw him roll his eyes, even in the dark. "I can't let them know I'm here, and you can barely move on that leg. I'll explain everything in a second, but not here. We need to get somewhere safe."

Remus nodded, and then held his breath as he heard the sound of the door handle tugging open.

"Not in here!" a voice called out almost instantly, turning back and latching the door.

"Let's get out of here; there'll be more coming," Sirius said, turning towards Remus. His body went still as he took in Remus, leaning against the wall, struggling to breathe through his bruised ribs.

"Shit," Sirius swore, shaking his head. "Okay I'm not going to hurt you, I swear."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just get it over with," Remus muttered, trying to stand up fully again.

Sirius' arm slipped once more around his waist, and his fingers dug into his side in an attempt to keep as much weight off his leg as possible. Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius' shoulders, using his arm strength to hold himself up and off his injury.

"Why are you here, Sirius?" Remus asked as a distraction from the pain.

They took a few steps, making it to the door. Sirius shook his head, pressing Remus closer against him. "Knew you couldn't walk well. I was worried."

"Worried?" Remus said, sounding amused. "You're the prince."

"So?"

"So… you have better things to be doing than risking your life for some wolf that you just met."

Sirius shrugged, and Remus felt it against his body as they moved. "I was the one who brought you here. I don't know, I guess I just feel a bit responsible for you."

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius laughed. "Don't say that you can take care of yourself because I already know that."

Remus _had_ been about to say that, and he felt a small grin tug at his mouth.

Once they made it to the door, Remus took a second to listen. "There's nobody in the hallway."

Sirius nodded, and opened the door. They turned right, and Remus took in the sight of ripped paintings and broken glass like stars spilling over the floor. It was pure chaos, destruction tearing through the halls unforgivingly.

"There's a safe space back in the main room that we need to get to, but we have to keep an eye out," Sirius whispered.

Remus nodded in response. He didn't trust his voice. He strained his ears, using his wolf hearing to help them get through the hallways.

"Wait, someone's around that corner," Remus mumbled tugging on Sirius' shoulders.

Sirius moved them aside to a little alcove in the hall, shifting Remus so that both of Sirius' hands were pressed firmly against the wall, his arms tucked under Remus' armpits to keep as much weight off of him as possible. They were facing each other, and with Sirius holding him up and the wall behind Remus that he could lean against, Remus felt a bit of relief, but he also felt some of his adrenaline wearing off.

"How are you doing?"

"I've been better," Remus answered, his teeth clenched. He felt like his mind was going to leave his body soon. He was dazed at the best, nearing on passing out at the worst.

Sirius leaned closer towards Remus as pounding footsteps ran right by them, his concerned eyes staring down at him. It looked like Sirius was going to back away and get moving again, but Remus could hear that whoever had run past them had stopped at the end of the hallway.

Before he could think about it, his hand shot out, catching onto Sirius' arm. "Wait," he whispered, his legs shaking from the lack of Sirius' arms on both sides of him.

Sirius must have misunderstood him because instantly he moved forward, wrapping his arms fully around Remus to hold him up.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"They're still at the end of the hall," Remus mumbled.

Sirius didn't drop his arms even after realizing why Remus had stopped him. They stood there for a good bit of time, Remus listening to whoever had invaded the palace's conversation as they waited. It was hard to pick apart, but suddenly a voice caught him off guard.

"Crap, I think they have Dorcas," Remus said, using Sirius' shoulders to pull himself up from how he was drooping against the wall.

Sirius' eyes went wide, and Remus could see the gears turning in his expression as he thought up how to save Dorcas.

Remus realized he was practically hugging Sirius, his arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck to keep himself up, Sirius' hands pressed against his hips, and his cheeks burned red. Sirius didn't seem to notice. He seemed preoccupied with the matter at hand like Remus ought to be also.

"They're… they're asking her where the safe room is," Remus translated. He found it easier to ignore how close they were and the points where Sirius was touching him when he had something else to focus on. "They seem to think that you're already in the safe room. She refused to tell—" Remus winced as he heard a loud slap and a pained noise escape Dorcas.

Sirius' eyes grew worried, and his hands tightened on Remus like he didn't know if the wince was due to Remus' own pain or something he heard. "She refused to tell them, and now they're hitting her every time she doesn't say."

Before Remus knew what was happening, Sirius swept his arm around Remus' back and quickly lowered him to the ground.

"I—Sirius?"

"Wait here, I'll be right back."

"No, Sirius," Remus whispered loudly. "There's a whole group of them; you won't be able to fight them all yourself."

"I can't just let them keep hurting her," Sirius responded, and then he disappeared down the hall. Remus heard him draw his sword.

He couldn't just sit by and let them capture Sirius. He tried to tell himself it was because Sirius was the prince of Hogwarts. Never before had he risked his life for _anyone_ else, but in all honestly, Remus couldn’t care less that Sirius was the prince. It was the feeling deep in his gut that started to feel queasy just thinking about what they would do to him that got Remus to heave himself onto his feet despite the pain that wracked his body.

 _Head down and stay alive,_ Remus tried to remind himself, but he was already turning down the hall. _What are you doing?_ Remus stooped to grab a sword off of a faceless guard on the floor. _Stop!_ Remus kept moving forward.

Sirius had already started fighting whoever had invaded the palace. He could hear it down the hall. Remus picked up his pace, adrenaline coursing through his veins, making it a bit easier to move. He pictured five against one in his head and moved faster.

Remus didn't waste time thinking about it, knowing if he thought too long, he would back out. Instead, he charged right into the thick of the fight, his sword mercilessly driving through one of the… Death Eaters?... backs. A sharp pain shot through his chest at his movement, and he struggled to think.

Sirius had already taken care of one, which left three more to fight. Remus caught sight of Dorcas on the ground, knocked out.

When Remus' Death Eater fell to the ground, Sirius looked up, eyes catching on Remus' for a split second. His eyebrow creased, and a frown tugged at his mouth, his expression turning into one of panic as one of the men broke off from the group against Sirius to fight Remus.

Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius, focusing on the what he was here for. His opponent was obviously part of the Dementor's because of his face paint. All of the dementors wore dark paint around their eyes that dripped down like black blood. It was meant to intimidate, but Remus had been around it enough that he felt nothing but cold detachment.

As they stared each other down, Remus flipped his sword in his hand once, showing off, and then lunged forward, taking care to move on his good leg. The dementor blocked his advance, but Remus pressed forward relentlessly. Dementors fought with swift grace, every movement light and measured. Remus used that to his advantage, putting more force behind his swings, forcing the dementor to get sloppy in order to hold Remus back.

The dementor tried to parry one of Remus' strikes, but it was rushed, and Remus used the opening to counterattack, slicing right across their chest. The dementor fell, and Remus finished him off without a thought.

When he looked over, Sirius was working on the last two at the same time. His eyes were focused, concentrated in a way that Remus knew well. It was the same way Sirius looked at him when they were talking. There was a cut on his lip that hadn't been there before, and a bit of blood was dripping to his chin.

Sirius was war, blood staining the sharp lines of his face, jet-black hair and misty gray eyes marking his features, his whole body moving with a dark grace that said he wouldn't lose. He was an unforgiving front as one opponent fell, and then the next, both hitting the ground with a soft thump. Sirius' sword was painted red.

He looked up just in time to lock eyes with Remus before two more came running towards them. A Death Eater and a... Remus stopped moving for a second. It looked like a wolf. His clothes were dirt caked and shredded, and there were scars across his face, but Remus didn't recognize him at all. Was he part of a different tribe that he didn't know about, or was it possible that there were other Wolfpacks?

"We've got company," Sirius grunted.

It was three against two, which Remus thought felt pretty easy now that he had seen Sirius fight. It made sense. Sirius was the prince; he had been trained in sword fighting his entire life. Still didn't make it any less stunning.

They stood with their backs facing each other, swords sticking out against their opponents. "The wolf's mine," Remus muttered, and then he attacked.

Wolves were easy for him. He had been around their fighting style his entire life, and although they were among some of the most feared forces in the kingdom, Remus' life had depended on being better than them at fighting.

This one was different. His technique was better than it ought to be for a wolf, but he moved with the same ferociousness. Remus found himself panting to keep up.

As he moved, something caught him off guard, and Remus took a step back, ducking out of the way. There was a scar taking up a large portion of the side of his neck, divots arching into two curves. A bite mark. It wasn't hard for Remus to tell.

After all, he had one too.

It was evident that he was definitely working with a wolf now, but how that was possible, he didn't know.

In the end, it was when Remus feinted to the right onto his good leg that cost the wolf, who must have caught onto Remus' bad leg and was not expecting an attack on that side. Remus drove his sword into the wolf's side, drawing a sharp howl from him before he dropped to the ground.

He turned towards Sirius, who was just turning towards Remus. Sirius pulled his sword out of the Death Eater at his feet. Remus watched as he wiped the blood on his suit coat, and he wondered how much money just went down the drain right before he felt himself collapsing forward, pain and nausea setting in where the adrenaline used to be.

His hands instinctively grabbed Sirius' shoulders, and Sirius wrapped both arms around him. He had known that last maneuver would cost him, but he hadn't predicted this kind of pain.

"Are you hurt?" Sirius asked, voice panicked.

"No more than I already was," Remus said, feeling ridiculous clinging to Sirius like this, but there was something deep inside that felt also slightly comforted. "Well, maybe a little more, but I'm fine."

Remus' vision went blurry and he clutched at his ribs. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Sirius pulled back, looking worried, and then slid Remus to the ground so that he could sit.

"You should have stayed where I left you," Sirius mumbled.

"I was a sitting duck over there, and you wouldn't have been able to take everyone on your own."

Sirius wouldn't be able to argue with that, but he sure looked like he wanted to try. Remus rolled his eyes at him.

"Go check on Dorcas."

He watched as Sirius checked Dorcas' pulse, and then threw her over his shoulder like she didn't weigh anything. To be fair, she was practically half of his height.

"Can you walk?" Sirius asked, looking down at Remus.

Remus fixed him with an annoyed glare and moved his hands underneath him. " _Yes_ , I can walk."

A hand filled his vision, and after a second, Remus took it, pulling himself up. He tried to hold in any signs of how bad he really felt, but no matter how much he tried to hold it in, a loud pained groan escaped as he stood, and Sirius' arm was around his waist in an instant, a constant support. Remus swiped the tears from his eyes quickly before Sirius could see.

He limped with Sirius who wasn't able to hold him up as well due to the fact that Dorcas was hanging over his shoulder. They stopped in front of a lion statue, and Remus eyed Sirius incredulously.

"Okay my hands are a little preoccupied, so I need to you to open it for me," Sirius explained, keeping his voice low in case there was still any Death Eaters roaming the hallways.

Remus nodded. "How do you open it?"

"Put your finger in its nose, and then pull down."

Sirius said it so seriously that Remus wanted to laugh, but he didn't have the energy. "Umm, what?"

Sirius tipped his head down at Remus and rolled his eyes. "Just do it, my arms are getting tired."

"I didn't think it was possible for you to get tired," Remus countered, sticking his finger in the statue’s nostril. Sure enough, the nose clicked loose, and he pulled it down. The statue spun away, revealing an opening in the wall.

"I didn't think it was either, but you're just so _heavy_ ," Sirius teased.

It should have felt weird. Sirius teasing him. Sirius touching him. Even just then, Remus found himself ready to respond to Sirius with a "hey!" And a jab at his side, but he stopped himself. He couldn't get attached. Not to anyone. He would eventually leave the palace and be on his own, and Sirius was the _prince_.

Remus took in the sight in front of him. It was a long staircase that went way down into the darkness until there was a point where Remus couldn't see anything anymore. It was… a lot of stairs.

"Oh, god," Remus muttered.

Sirius pulled them inside and closed off the door. There was a torch on the wall, illuminating his features so that his face was shining against the darkness of the space, and it cast warm shadows down his person. Ever so slowly, Sirius lowered Remus down to sit at one of the stairs.

"So, there's a lot of stairs down."

Remus didn't respond. The thought of making his way all the way down was a bit daunting, and he was trying to get back to a place with Sirius that was at least somewhat normal for him. Not responding, that was normal.

"I'm going to take Dorcas down first. All of the healers are down there. Then I'll come back up so I can help you better."

"I can just stay here."

Sirius was shaking his head before Remus was even done talking.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and then he was climbing down the staircase, the darkness swallowing him whole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just noticed I posted this chapter without the last sentence so to anyone who read it early, that end must have seemed really weird to them 😂


	7. Chapter 7

Sirius tried not to hurry as he made his way down the stairs. He had already made this journey with Pomfrey in his arms, and he would have to make it with Remus, and then he would be leaving again to check the other side rooms that Pomfrey had said were also not cleared. He would need his energy.

Nonetheless, he found his feet picking up speed, the sound of his dress shoes against the stone floors echoing around the compact space in a mesmerizing cadence that rang through his head. He just kept picturing getting back up the stairs and Remus not being there. He tried to reason with his mind that this was irrational, but it didn’t take knowing Remus long to figure out he was flighty at the least, completely unexpected at the most.

He saw the orangey tint of the torchlight on the walls before the actual torch itself came into view, signaling the end of Sirius’ decent. A look of relief washed over both of the guards’ faces that were standing by. The relief didn’t last long, their faces dropping back into worry a second later as, once again, Sirius simply passed someone off and turned to leave.

“Your Highness,” the same guard who had interjected before, said.

“I’m not leaving again. There’s someone else I need to retrieve at the top of the staircase.”

“We can retrieve them; you should get inside,” the other guard offered.

“No.” Sirius spoke a little too forcefully, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry at the moment. “No, it's fine. Just get her to someone who can tend to her.”

And then Sirius was moving quickly back up the stairs again. He was tired by the time he finished climbing, but he didn’t let the exhaustion set in. He had made it this far. It had been a long day. He was drained in every possible way: socially, physically, emotionally, and he still had more to go.

Sirius tried not to falter as Remus came into view. He had his arm wrapped loosely around his stomach and was leaning against the stone wall, his head tucked in towards his chest. He was paler than usual, his eyes closed shut, and for a quick moment, a feeling of panic had washed over Sirius like a wave crashing against the land as he took in his death-like state.

He took a step forward, noticing the very slight and shaky rise and fall of Remus’ shoulders as he breathed, and Sirius felt the wave recede slowly back into the ocean’s depths. Remus looked small there in the corner of this dark passage, and Sirius had an urge to brush his wavy hair out of his face.

He didn’t think to alert Remus of his presence; he knew he had heard him approaching. It hadn’t taken long for Sirius to discover that Remus had instincts unlike anyone he had ever met, and hearing that was verging on being super.

Sirius knelt down besides Remus, careful not to touch him.

“Can I help you up?”

Remus pulled his head away from the wall and groaned softly, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he opened his eyes. He looked like he wanted to just ask Sirius if he could stay there, but like usual, he held back, whether it was out of fear for what Sirius would retaliate with, or just pure habit. For once, Sirius was thankful for Remus’ withdrawal. He didn’t like how pale Remus was looking, or the dark bags under his eyes, or just thinking about the amount of strain he had put on his injuries.

As Remus nodded and sat up, Sirius brought himself to ask, “How’s your leg?”

The fact that Remus didn’t respond was disconcerting, and he reached his arm out to Sirius like he was ignoring the subject. Sirius sat up, bending forward to see if he could see his leg. He stopped when a warm hand met his face. Sirius stilled, practically frozen as he moved his eyes back to Remus’ face.

Remus looked a bit dazed as he stared at Sirius, and then ever so lightly, he swiped the pad of his thumb slowly over Sirius’ bottom lip. _Wiping the blood from my lip._ The realization was delayed, and Sirius felt his heart rate pick up as time seemed to stop. He leaned in a bit, liking the way Remus’ finger felt against his lip, liking the way Remus’ touch felt against his skin, liking the way his heart seemed to be stuttering to a stop. He was finding it increasingly more difficult to ignore these feelings that kept coming up when he least expected them too, but he forced them down once more, knowing his place. _He’s off limits,_ Sirius reminded himself.

With great reluctance, Sirius tipped his head down a bit, remembering what he had asked in the first place.

“Your leg?” Sirius whispered.

Remus looked like he had been pulled out of a trance, and he jerked his hand back, sighing a little as he dragged his leg out of view almost childishly. Sirius rose his eyebrow at him, and Remus finally said, “I don’t think my stitches held up well. My leg started to bleed...” Remus saw the look in Sirius’ face, and he added, “a bit,” to the end.

Something inside Sirius began to panic. How much blood had he lost? Was this why he looked so pale? Was he going to be okay? Why did Sirius care so incredibly much anyways?

“Alright, here let’s hurry. I’m going to carry you down.”

“I can walk.”

Sirius ignored him. He hated to use it against Remus, but despite how much he hated it, Sirius knew that a part of Remus was still scared of Sirius. Maybe not even Sirius himself, but his title and power at least. Right now, Remus was too injured, and he wouldn’t argue with him much over this.

“I’m going to touch you,” Sirius warned before slipping his arms around Remus.

Remus tensed up for just a second and then relaxed against Sirius as he scooped him into his arms. “C-careful with my ribs,” he mumbled.

Sirius nodded and adjusted Remus in his arms. “Tell me if there’s a better way to hold you so it doesn’t hurt.”

As Sirius began making his way down the stairs, Remus grunted, and his hand came up to wrap around Sirius’ neck like he had just a few nights ago. Sirius had told himself then that he couldn’t think of Remus like that. He couldn’t think of him how he was thinking of Remus right at the moment, but no matter what he did, the thoughts came snaking their way back, infiltrating his mind with images of warm freckled skin and fluttering eyelashes. The same thoughts that came this evening at the banquet as his father introduced him to new ladies of the court, and each night when he was lying alone in his empty chambers, and every time that he was in the same vicinity as Remus.

He didn’t even know what it was about him. He barely even knew him, but it was as if there was a chain wrapped around them, holding them together, holding Remus in Sirius’ thoughts.

Sirius thought about these things as they made there way deeper and deeper underground. He thought about them as Remus tucked his head against his chest, squeezing his arms tighter around him.

“Will you let me walk before we get in sight of anyone else?” Remus whispered. He sounded disoriented, and his breath was warm against Sirius’ neck.

A laugh escaped Sirius, and he tipped his head down a bit, chin brushing against soft hair. “What? You don’t want anyone seeing you being carried?”

“Mm-mm.” Sirius felt Remus shake his head a little against him.

“You’ll just have to deal with the embarrassment,” Sirius teased softly.

Remus didn’t say anything else.

When they made it to the safe room, the guards opened the door for him, and Sirius moved inside quickly. It was a large, square room with stone walls. It was much better lit than the staircase down, with torches hanging around the room. There were chests and shelves all over, filled to the brim with food and medical supplies. They had made sure to stock this particular room the best with supplies since it was where all the hospital wing patients were evacuated to. There were rows of cots filling up most of the floor space in the center, and sleeping bags that lined the corners.

Sirius made his way carefully towards an area in the back corner where he had spotted Dorcas, Pomfrey, and a few other healers. Dorcas sat up a bit when she saw Sirius.

“Your Highness! Thank fucking goodness; I thought you were dead or something!”

“Well, you’re looking better than the last time I saw you,” Sirius joked.

“Yeah, I have an amazing skill for making myself pass out when I’m being tortured for information. It’s a skill I just discovered, but one nonetheless. Also, I’ve got a concussion to match dear ol’ Remus’.”

Sirius lowered Remus carefully down onto a sleeping bag that was laid out, frowning at Dorcas. Responsibility for what those Death Eaters had done to her just to get to him was creeping up and placing itself deep inside his stomach.

“Oh don’t make that face at me,” Dorcas scolded. “Also, speaking of Remus, what the hell Remus!”

Remus flinched and then made a pained face, wrapping his arm around his stomach.

“What?” Remus grunted, looking sort of like a kicked puppy dog from his place on the ground.

“You won’t even let me help you to the bathroom! What makes _him_ so special?” Dorcas jabbed her finger at Sirius whilst also making a sympathetic face that momentarily told Remus she was sorry for startling him.

Sirius laughed. It felt good to laugh. He felt like he was coming down from a terrible high, and the day settled deep in his chest. He was finally safe. They were safe. Dorcas was joking, and Pomfrey looked like she was recovering at the cot she had been placed in. He remembered Remus’ leg, and something about the idea of leaving him right now to go check the other rooms was making his stomach hurt.

“Dorcas, how many patients were in the side rooms like Remus’?”

“It was just Remus and one other knight who had been injured during training.”

“Remus tore his stitches again,” Sirius stated, changing the subject.

“Are you kidding me?” Dorcas complained, throwing her hands in the air. “I have a concussion. I am _not_ doing them again.”

Sirius laughed. “Probably a good idea considering they didn’t last.”

“Hey! That was not my fault. Remus is the one who keeps putting so much pressure on them.”

“It’s a deep cut,” Remus mumbled like that was his excuse.

He looked like death, his face pale, and his head tipped back, but when Sirius joked, “Gonna have to just amputate,” Remus still crinkled his nose at him.

Sirius got up in search for a healer who was available, which wasn’t too hard since people were always trying to help him even when he didn’t need it.

As they walked back to their somewhat hidden corner, Sirius spoke to the healer. “Take care of him as best you can.”

“I will do everything I can,” the nurse promised.

“I’ll be right back.” Sirius told the others when they got to the corner.

Dorcas nodded, but Remus didn’t seem to have even caught Sirius’ words. It hurt him to leave.

When Sirius made it out of the safe room and back to the entrance, he looked at the two guards standing by the door, and they looked back at him with concern.

“I need one of you to come with me.”

They glanced at each other and then back at Sirius. “…Sire?”

Sirius sighed impatiently. He had learned that sighing impatiently got people moving. “Yes, right, of course. I will,” one volunteered.

Sirius reached his hand out for a shake. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Nick, Sire.”

“Nick, I’m Sirius. Follow me.”

Nick’s mouth dropped open a bit, and he glanced at the other guard before following behind Sirius. As they climbed, Sirius recounted to Nick what they were doing.

“There’s one more patient, hopefully still in their room up here. Everyone’s down except them, so we need to retrieve them quickly, help them back down here, and not get spotted by any more people.”

“ _More_ people?” Nick asked. He cleared his throat and added on a muffled “Sire” at the end and a cough.

“Yeah, we had a bit of a run in up here. You’ll see.”

As they left the safety of the secret entrance, Sirius marched quickly through the main room, ignoring the way Nick faltered at the sight of seven bodies laying around the ground. It looked like the medical wing hadn’t been swept through again, and Sirius strained his ears for the sound of any fighting, but he came up short. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

He might not have needed Nick, but he would rather be safe than sorry, and he had to admit that if Remus hadn’t been there to help earlier, he didn’t know what would have happened.

Luckily, they didn’t run into anyone else, and they found Grace in no time at all, a high-strung knight who had probably been waiting in the closet of her room for a sign to leave for hours. She stuttered her gratitude to Nick and Sirius as they made their way back down the stairs, and while Sirius tried to be as princely and kind as possible, his mind was really just on getting back down to his corner in the safe room. To Remus.

He let Nick situate Grace once they were back in the room, parting ways with a nod to both of them. He had only been gone twenty minutes tops, but it felt like an hour, and Sirius made his way back through the tangle of cots and sleeping bags quickly, yet once he actually got there, he stopped, standing still for a second.

Dorcas had her head tipped back, leaning against the wall with her eyes shut. The nurse Sirius had called over was leaning over Remus’ leg, his eyes concentrated on what he was doing.

Sirius finally found it in himself to fully look at Remus. He looked grim. His skin was pale, paler than Sirius had ever seen it, even that day in the woods when he had been left to bleed out onto the forest floor, leg torn open wide. His face was emotionless, eyes closed, but not squeezed shut like he was in pain. Just closed. Like he was sleeping or… Sirius didn’t let himself continue that thought.

There was a spot next to Remus that was empty. Sirius sat down. He eyed Remus for a moment who hadn’t opened his eyes with Sirius’ arrival, which was unusual. A minute passed of just Sirius sitting there, watching Remus’ unchanging face. He refused to look at his leg, or the nurse, or anything else because he didn’t know if he could take it at the moment.

A single tear slipped down Remus’ face.

It was what set Sirius into motion, his hand slipping out where Remus’ was. Sirius’ fingers slid under Remus’ slightly curled ones, pushing them back so that Remus’ palm was open. He heard Remus let out a shaky breath, and then he took Sirius’ hand in his, barely squeezing, like he was too weak for anything else.

“Am I dying?” Remus muttered.

Sirius almost didn’t hear him. His voice was weak and shaky, barely above a whisper. Something about the question made Sirius laugh. Maybe it was the fact that just yesterday Remus had been getting better, that he was supposed to be healing. Maybe it was the fact that even at the castle, they didn’t have the medicine to help Remus fast enough. Maybe it was the fact that this was probably his fault. He shouldn’t have let Remus fight those guys. He shouldn’t have let Remus walk. He should have come sooner. He should have realized that Remus had been slowly losing blood that whole time. Maybe it was everything. Suddenly it was all just _funny_.

“No, Remus. You’re not dying,” Sirius whispered. Remus didn’t respond.

The safe room was quiet by normal measures, but to Sirius everything sounded loud. The slight murmuring of nurses and patients to his left, the silky shuffling of legs inside sleeping bags, the loud click of boots on the stone floor. Everything echoed off the walls, and Sirius felt like he was choking. The air was sad. Someone was crying a few feet away from him, and someone else was groaning every few minutes.

He had never been down here during an attack, and he hated it. He hated the feeling of uselessness, the feeling that there was nothing he could do. Nothing but sit here and hold Remus’ hand, watching him fade away in front of his eyes. Sirius finally looked down at Remus’ leg.

It was bad.

There was a bucket of water next to him that was murky red, a rag floating around at the top. The skin around Remus’ wound was practically every color that it shouldn’t be, and something in Sirius’ stomach lurched, but not out of disgust. Maybe it was fear.

He cleared his throat, drawing up what little of his princely manner he had left from the day. “How’s it looking?”

The nurse looked up. He was older than Sirius, but younger than Pomfrey, and he had what looked like a recent cut through his right eyebrow. Sirius wondered if it was from helping patients get down here.

“Do you want the kinder version, Your Highness?” He spoke with an accent that Sirius didn’t recognize.

Sirius sighed. “Tell it to me how it is.”

“He lost a lot of blood, and it looks like his leg hasn’t had any good time to truly begin healing. It was hard to get the original stitches out of his leg because of how his skin was growing in around them, but now that I have, I’m worried about the possibility of infection, and he’s still losing blood. It doesn’t help that his ribs haven’t healed yet either. It’s not… ideal. I need to finish these new stitches, and honestly, from there, it really is a waiting game. He needs to stay completely off his leg for a long time, and he needs time to heal.”

Sirius nodded, weighing everything that he had heard. It wasn’t anything that he hadn’t been expecting. “Thank you…” he trailed off, realizing he hadn’t learned his name.

“Spencer,” the healer supplied.

Sirius nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Spencer.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Time ticked by, but it felt like everything was standing still. Remus didn’t move as the night grew later, and Dorcas eventually dozed off to sleep. Sirius kept his hand in Remus’, thumb brushing over his knuckles.

This seemed to be their thing now—Sirius holding Remus’ hand while he was going through excruciating pain. Sirius wondered if he would ever hold Remus’ hand under other circumstances. He supposed not, considering there wouldn’t be reason to under other circumstances, but the thought made him sad.

Remus’ hand was warm and constant. It was a good distraction for Sirius to focus on drawing little designs with his thumb over the soft skin on the back of his hand, untouched by the cruelty that his life had offered him.

Eventually, Spencer stood up. “There isn’t much else I can really do, Your Highness. You both should get some sleep.”

Sirius thanked him again and returned the sentiment. He looked at Remus, unable to tell if he was sleeping or not since he looked the same as he had an hour ago. As carefully as he could, Sirius moved to extract his hand from Remus’, but Remus stopped him, his hand squeezing Sirius’ fingers slightly.

He didn’t open his eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” Sirius whispered, squeezing his hand back once and then slipping out of his grasp. He didn’t want to leave, especially with the way his heart was beating after Remus had held on to him, but he needed to speak with Spencer quietly one on one.

“I would… appreciate you discretion with this specific patient,” Sirius started, once they were standing alone, away from Remus. He was unsure if Spencer would catch on.

His eyes shown with understanding, though, and he nodded once, “Of course, Your Highness. My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius watched as Spencer left and joined another nurse, and then he moved to sit back down with Remus. His hand was still in the same place on the floor, and Sirius slipped his own hand back into his without stopping to think about it.

“You should get some rest,” Sirius whispered.

“Can’t,” Remus responded after a moment. “Too many people.” His voice was raspy and quiet, so Sirius leaned forward a little. His shoulders and back hurting from sitting on the ground hunched over for so long.

“None of them will hurt you; I promise. I won’t let them.”

Remus let out a sigh, cracking his eyes open. For a split second, he glanced down at their joined hands, but he didn’t say anything. Sirius hoped that he was finally making some progress, but it was probably just because Remus was so tired. Since the second he had spoken to James about how Remus had probably never been touched without ill intent, all Sirius wanted to do was change that. He wanted to help Remus see how good touch could be, but how could he when Remus was like this? Currently in pain over another human’s touch?

“It’s not… it’s not that.” Sirius waited to see if Remus would elaborate. “With the Wolfpack,” Remus paused to breathe through every phrase, his eyes fluttering closed again, “I slept on my own away from camp. If anyone came near me while I was sleeping, I knew I was in trouble.” There was another long pause. “I got pretty used to waking myself up if I heard voices or footsteps in my vicinity. Even if I’m not going to be hurt, I’ll wake up the second I try to sleep in here.”

Sirius was grateful for Remus’ honesty, and his brain flicked through ways he could help him. He wanted Remus to be able to get some sleep.

“I can make them all shut up. I _am_ the prince you know,” Sirius joked.

Remus coughed out a small laugh. “I have…pretty good hearing, so that probably won’t do much.

Sirius wanted to ask about that. He wanted to know if it was something all wolves had, or just something unique to him, but he could see the tiredness in Remus’ face, and he was tired himself.

Carefully, Sirius lowered himself so that he was laying on his back next to Remus. He made sure to keep Remus’ hand in his because he didn’t want to lose the contact. He tucked his free arm underneath his head like a pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Sirius sighed. He didn’t really expect an answer; it was Remus after all.

That’s why when he muttered a soft, “Why is it going to be a long night?” Sirius was startled.

He turned his head so that he could look at Remus, who still had his eyes closed. “Oh, I guess just because neither of us are going to get any sleep.”

“You can’t sleep?”

Sirius paused, wondering if it would be okay to talk to Remus about personal things. It was wildly inappropriate for him as a prince, but then again nothing about their relationship had really been normal since day one had it? “I just can’t stop thinking about everyone else still out there fighting, and who might have gotten hurt, and how this even happened in the first place. I thought we had stopped the siege attempt, but—”

Remus cut him off with a chuckle.

“What?”

“Sorry…sorry,” Remus mumbled. “It’s just, this was definitely not the siege attempt.”

“What do you mean?” Sirius was all ears now. He sat up, propping himself up with his elbow so he could see Remus better, even if Remus was just laying there with his eyes closed.

“The siege would have been huge. I mean huge. I know you killed Voldemort and wiped out most of my pack, but there are Death Eaters in every corner of the kingdom, powerful ones too. I’ve seen their mansions and their money. It…it wouldn’t have been like this.” Remus spoke with such clarity. He sounded so sure of himself despite his quiet and labored tone.

Sirius sighed and laid back down. If this was Remus’ reasoning, there wasn’t even really an argument. “Well, we have money too. I mean this palace is supposed to be a fortress, and I’m sure we have more manpower than however many Death Eaters there are. Besides, our knights are better trained than them too.”

“Sirius, I’m telling you. This wasn’t a siege attempt. I mean, I didn’t see the main areas of the palace, but Voldemort had rallied up every group in all of Hogwarts. The Dementors, the Giants, the Snatchers, the Death Eaters, the Wolfpack, hell there’s more Wolfpack’s than I even knew of. And they’re all better trained than you would think.”

For a split second, Sirius stopped to realize this was the most Remus had ever really said to Sirius, which was ironic considering he was worse in his health than Sirius had seen him since returning to the palace. He couldn’t dwell on it long because Remus had said so many shocking things, Sirius didn’t even know where to start.

“Wait, he got the loyalty of the Dementors?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see the Dementors when we fought earlier?” Remus shifted his body, clutching his ribs as he turned to perhaps get more comfortable. A slight exhale left his weak voice.

“I… no. I’ve never seen a Dementor, they always stuck together in the Azkaban mountains outside of Hogwarts.” Remus nodded in response. “What did you mean by more Wolfpacks?”

It seemed like Remus wasn’t going to respond with the silence that followed, and Sirius turned to look at him. His eyes were still closed, but his brow was furrowed slightly, a little wrinkle on his forehead crinkling in like he was thinking through something. He let out a breath as if he was going to speak, but it took two or three more starts to actually get any words out of him.

“I saw a wolf today, but I know everyone in my pack, and he wasn’t from it. I didn’t know there were other packs out there.”

“Are you sure it was a wolf and not some other group?”

Remus nodded immediately. “He was a wolf alright. If I couldn’t tell from the clothes and the dirt under his fingernails, the mark sure gave it away.”

“Mark?” Something in Sirius’ mind told him he wasn’t going to like whatever Remus was going to tell him next.

“To be in the pack, you have to get the mark.”

“I don’t understand.”

Remus sighed, peaked one of his eyes open, and then the other. “Help me sit up,” he whispered.

Sirius leaned forward, glad for Remus finally asking for help. He slipped one arm around Remus, his palm on his lower back and took his arm in his other hand. Remus used Sirius’ shoulder to pull himself up, and Sirius forced his heart to stop _beating_ at the simple feeling of Remus holding onto him, his body so close, Sirius’ arm wrapped around him. He wanted to stay close to Remus like this; he wanted to memorize every little thing about how it felt, but Remus pulled away, reaching for the top of his sweater. It was a loose sweater, one that hung a bit wide on his shoulders, and Remus tugged it to the right so that one of his shoulders was bare, and down so that Sirius could see a spot just below his collar bone. A spot that was rigid and scarred, breaking his smooth skin. A spot that looked just like a bite mark.

Sirius gasped. “Is that—”

“Yeah… a bite mark.”

He had the urge to run his fingers over the mark, to see if it was real, to feel where Remus had been hurt however long ago it was. He didn’t reach out. He didn’t want to lose Remus in this moment of openness.

Sirius didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before. He had seen Pomfrey working on him without his shirt on, but he had just been so overwhelmed with how many scars had actually been hidden, littering his torso, that he hadn’t really zoned in on any one scar in particular.

“Some Wolves like to sharpen their teeth. For the look, for hunting, all kinds of reasons, but the leader of the pack has to have sharp teeth as tradition goes.”

“Greyback,” Sirius muttered, the dots connecting in his head.

Remus nodded solemnly. “Greyback.”

“He bit you?” Sirius exclaimed, still in their whispered tone that they had been using, but a little louder, a little harsher. Remus flinched, but he muttered “It’s fine” before Sirius could get any of his rushed apologies out.

“It’s like their initiation I guess. Everyone has one.”

Sirius watched as Remus lowered himself down. He watched as his face tightened and his breathing became labored, but he didn’t reach out because Remus didn’t ask for help, and Sirius knew he had been forced far too many times today to be touched by him.

“But, you were just a servant right? I mean why would they make you one of them?”

Sirius’ fears all came back to him once again. He knew they were irrational. Remus had had so many chances to kill Sirius, and he had given away enough information to him that he wouldn’t have needed to. He couldn’t be a spy; he couldn’t have allegiances against Sirius. He couldn’t possibly. But that same creeping feeling he had felt earlier when Remus had drawn the scalpel on him was an ever present thought, staining his mind.

“I don’t know. Greyback… he was always trying to get me to do the things that the others did. I trained with them, hung around for some events; I occasionally went on hunts with them. But then, he would constantly remind me of my real place, humiliating me in front the others, forcing me into fights for entertainment, giving me more and more work to do. I was one of them, but I wasn’t, I guess? I knew I didn’t belong.”

Sirius shook his head even though Remus couldn’t see. “Of course you didn’t belong with them.” _You belong here_ , Sirius wanted to add.

Remus let out a laugh, but not one of humor. It was cold and a little hopeless. “No, I didn’t.” Sirius could feel Remus slipping just a foot away from him, and he didn’t know how to catch him. “The only place I ever belonged, I was taken from.” Remus sighed. “Maybe I didn’t even belong there,” he trailed off.

After a moment, Remus brought the heels of his palms to his eyes, pressing in. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Sirius didn’t know what he was sorry for. He reached out, but his hand hung still in the air, useless. “I, can I touch you?” he whispered.

Remus’ hands slid away from his face, and he looked at Sirius, amber eyes shining. He nodded, just barely, and Sirius could _see_ how he was fighting with himself. He could see it in his face, in the way that he leaned into Sirius at the same time he was leaning away, and in the way that he always opened up just to close himself off.

The nod was enough. Sirius didn’t exactly know what to do now. He just knew that he had wanted to comfort Remus, and the way he had always best known how to do that was through touch. He started with familiar territory, joining their hands again. Remus’ was still clenched, but he relaxed it as Sirius slipped his hand into his. This was so natural by now. It was skin against skin, connection, like Remus had probably never known before, and it was comfortable. He thought that maybe Remus would let him hold his hand often.

This was a start. This was good.

Sirius laid down again, on his side this time, a bit closer to Remus than earlier. He risked running his fingertips over the top of Remus’ other hand, across his wrist, up his arm, fingers brushing against skin. It was a feather-light touch, but it felt like the weight of the world was balancing on his fingers where they made contact. Remus let him continue, laying still and breathing his same even breaths. It was when Remus opened his eyes, and they met with Sirius’ that Sirius suddenly realized he was _actually_ leaning over Remus, his fingers still absentmindedly tracing up and down Remus arm, their hands still clasped together. It was mind-numbing.

Remus didn’t blink as he looked at Sirius, eyes wide, but curious, and it felt like they were being held together by their stare. He wasn’t worried about anyone seeing them. It was dark, most of everyone was asleep, and they were tucked away in a corner. It was just Remus and Sirius, the air heavy between them.

Quickly, before he could back out, Sirius brought his hand up to brush some pieces of Remus’ hair that had fallen onto his forehead out of his face. He had done it before, but something about it now seemed more intimate. Remus closed his eyes, opened them again, stared at Sirius, his face unreadable, and Sirius’ fingers lingered in his hair.

“You don’t have to be sorry for opening up,” Sirius whispered, responding to Remus’ earlier apologies, and something in Remus’ eyes changed, softened, grew heavy. Suddenly a thought crashed into Sirius’ head like an earthquake, throwing him off guard, and making him feel unsteady.

He wanted to kiss Remus.

It wasn’t exactly the first time he had thought it, but it was the first time it had hit this hard and so fast. It was ridiculous, really. They hadn’t known each other long at all, and Sirius was a prince who should not be thinking about things like this, and Remus definitely wouldn’t want him to, and Sirius desperately wanted to kiss Remus.

He thought about how easy it would be to. They were very close to each other now, and Remus was still looking up at Sirius with those big open eyes of his that made Sirius’ mind go crazy, and he just wanted to know what it would feel like to be that close to him.

Instead, he jerked away, breaking the moment between them. He laid back down again, squeezing his eyes shut to get the image out of his mind. Remus must have felt the energy between them shift because he sucked in a shaky breath and spoke, moving on from the feelings they had been getting into.

“Anyways, none of that was my point to begin with. The point is, this whole thing is way bigger than you thought. If you hadn’t killed Voldemort the night of the siege, I don’t know if you would have won that battle.” There was a long pause as Remus thought. “And _this_ was _not_ that siege.”

Sirius was still reeling from what had just happened. He had forgotten this was even what they were talking about in the first place, and he reminded himself that Remus hadn’t even felt what Sirius had just felt, so he needed to get his head together. “Well then what do you think it was?”

Remus shrugged, and Sirius felt it from where their intertwined hands moved slightly. “Not a siege.”

“Real helpful,” Sirius teased.

He got a smirk from Remus, and he counted that as a win. Surprisingly enough, a yawn escaped from Sirius’ lips, and he felt his eyes flutter closed for a moment. Something about Remus being next to him and their long talk was making it hard for him to keep thinking cohesively, and his eyes continued to droop closed.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight,” Remus noted, his words light despite the way his breathing was still labored, his eyes still pained.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Sirius sighed.

“One of us might as well get some sleep.”

Sirius chuckled lightly. “Goodnight Remus,” he mumbled, already slipping away.

He didn’t know if he imagined it, but he thought he heard Remus reply, voice soft, with, “Goodnight Sirius.”

He dreamt of a caramel-eyed wolf and a warm hand in his.

\------

Remus didn’t know how Sirius was able to fall asleep so quickly, especially after saying that he supposedly wasn’t going to be getting any sleep that night. He didn’t exactly know what to do with their hands, which were still loosely laced together, but the soft weight in his palm was…nice. He figured Sirius was asleep, so there was no point in accidentally waking him by moving.

Looking around the room, away from their corner, he saw that everyone else were asleep by now too, and a soft lull had taken over the room, accompanied by a few snores and the occasional cough.

Remus felt his eyes doze off a few times, only to be startled awake again by the sound of someone moving or Sirius repositioning himself in his sleep. By the fourth time that it had happened, he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out everything around him, but it was no use.

He was exhausted and hurting everywhere, but he would have to wait until at least morning before he could get any kind of sleep. He opted for watching Sirius, a feat that had always been challenging when Sirius was awake, but he found it easy now.

There was dried blood on his cheeks, and now that Remus wasn’t entirely delirious with his own pain, he felt himself wondering who’s it was. An itch creeped up in the back of his mind, yearning to wash the blood away like how he had wiped Sirius’ blood from his lip earlier.

He barely remembered that moment now, when his fingers had met Sirius’ lips. If someone had told him it was only a dream, he would have believed them. In fact, he wished it had been a dream. He didn’t know what had gotten into him and could only remember thinking, “there’s blood on his lip. Someone should fix that,” and then there was his own hand reaching up, slipping over his bottom lip like it was only Sirius’ hand he was touching.

Remus shook the image away, telling himself he would never slip up like that again no matter what state he was in, but then there was what had just happened between them, and his mind was reeling again.

His arm still felt warm where he had felt Sirius brushing his hand up his bare skin from how his sweater sleeves had been pushed up past his forearms. He could still remember how it had felt to have Sirius leaning over him, eyes focused so intensely on Remus it had been like they were the only two people in the room.

It was the weirdest thing, but Remus had felt something in his stomach he had never felt before, and he didn’t understand it at all. His heart was racing and his mouth had grown dry, and he didn’t want to look away. He hoped Sirius hadn’t noticed.

Remus shook his head, trying not to think about it. He let himself drift through his thoughts, floating in some place between pain, exhaustion, and dreams. He didn’t really know how much time had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours.

Remus’ thoughts were cut off abruptly.

The doors to the safe-room swung open, and the guards who Remus had seen standing at the door earlier burst through, torches in their hands, casting light everywhere in flickering bursts like sun rays catching through trees in the darkness of an early morning. The thought made Remus wonder what time it was.

“We’ve been given the all clear,” one of them announced loudly, his words echoing around the walls.

Some people startled awake, and others remained in their deep sleep, oblivious to the noise around them.

“We are permitted to return to the main floor of the castle,” The other proclaimed.

Remus forced himself to sit up a bit, propped on his elbows. His hand slid from Sirius’, and Sirius stirred besides him. Remus got to watch as he blinked a few times, dark lashes fluttering against high cheekbones, and then his hand came up to slide over his face and brush delicate fingers through his ebony hair. He sat up besides Remus, his eyes dark with fatigue and clouded with wariness.

“Whas goin on?” he mumbled, and _oh_ , Sirius’ voice was low and husky after sleep. Remus didn’t know why that mattered enough for his mind to take note of it, but for some reason he found himself waiting for Sirius to say something else.

“Umm, I guess we have the clear to go back up.”

“That doesn’t make any sense…” Sirius trailed off, and his eyes began scanning the room.

People were stretching and moving to help those around them. A low chatter had returned, shattering whatever quiet the room had held moments before.

Remus could see the exact moment that Sirius’ eyes focused on him by the way they stilled from their wild journey around the room and settled on Remus’ face. The confusion in them turned to concern. He reached forward like he was going to touch Remus’ face and then let his hand drop quickly the way he did so often. Remus was proud to note he hadn’t flinched away from him this time, but confused to note that a slight feeling of disappointment filled his chest when Sirius’ hand had dropped.

“Did you sleep at all?” Sirius asked.

“I-no,” Sirius’ eyes turned ever the more concerned, and Remus rushed on, “but it hasn’t been that long.”

It was the perfect thing to say. Sirius turned back to the room, apparently back to his original train of though.

“That’s exactly why I’m confused. They’ve never given the all clear so soon after a battle. It should have taken at least a night.”

“Well, maybe it ended soon after we came down.”

“Even then, they usually clean up a bit before people are released, especially with so many guests over from the banquet to impress. Plus, there’s the long waiting period just to make sure everything’s been settled.”

Maybe Remus should have been more concerned with what Sirius was saying, but he was honestly too tired to care, and he couldn’t find it in himself to have any reason to be upset that they were finally being released from this dark hole of a room.

People were starting to leave now, arms around patients who needed help getting up the stairs. Sirius turned towards Remus.

“How are you feeling?”

Remus looked around inside his head for an answer. He felt like shit. “Alright.”

Sirius pressed his lips together and then scanned the room again. “Okay, where’s Pomfrey and Dorcas?”

He had asked a second too soon because a moment later, Dorcas appeared in their line of sight.

“You wanna double up on helping Re and Pomfrey?” she asked Sirius.

Remus had no idea what she had just done to his name, but commenting on it sounded like too much energy, and maybe it was just the exhaustion and blood-loss speaking, but he actually didn’t mind the nickname. Nobody had ever called him anything other than Remus before, unless he counted the creative insults some of the Wolves from the pack had come up with.

“Yeah good idea,” Sirius responded.

Remus felt a wave of relief that Sirius wasn’t going to be carrying him up the stairs in front of everyone, and then he felt a wave of dread at the thought of climbing all of those stairs on his injured leg. He knew if he asked Sirius to carry him, he would in a heartbeat, but there was no way in hell he would ask that.

“Let’s get Pomfrey up first; she’s on a stretcher so I’ll hold one side, and you can hold the other,” Dorcas offered.

Remus looked up with Dorcas’ words, noticing that there were actually quite a few patients on stretchers, and they were all starting to get moved up the stairs one by one. Sirius’ eyes slid to Remus’ and Remus could just see exactly what he was thinking.

“No, you are not carrying me up on a stretcher,” Remus huffed.

Sirius sighed.

“Fuckin prideful wolf,” Dorcas teased.

Usually Remus would have hated being called a wolf, so directly being associated with the pack, but something about it coming out of Dorcas’ mouth, here—in the palace—made it seem not as scary. It was just a joke, just teasing, something from his past.

“Profanity, Dorcas,” Sirius warned, waving a joking finger at her.

“I’m dating _Marlene_ ; what do you expect?”

Sirius laughed. “You know, maybe we should bring Remus up first. He’s already been around people longer than I would like.”

Remus had figured out a long time ago that he was a secret. James and Dorcas came into his room quickly, and always closed the door immediately after them. Sirius always seemed to be hiding him; even here they had taken to the corner of the room away from everyone. He supposed being an ex-wolf that wouldn’t have needed to be saved wasn’t the best thing to flaunt around the castle, but it made him wonder what would happen if the king or queen happened to find out about him.

“True, I’ll go tell Madame Pomfrey,” Dorcas said, turning to head back through the thinning crowds.

Only a few seconds passed after Dorcas left before Sirius’ eyes were back on Remus. He met Sirius’ gaze, liking the way that it felt when their eyes were locked, like a physical touch that didn’t set off any alarms in Remus, like a connection he had never shared with anyone before. Sirius’ eyes softened.

“I don’t understand why you won’t let us use a stretcher for you.”

“It would be hard for you two to carry a stretcher up their twice, and I don’t need one,” Remus responded.

Sirius didn’t argue with Remus, which he was grateful for, and Dorcas returned a few moments later. Together, Sirius and Dorcas looped their arms under Remus’ shoulders and hoisted him up. Remus found himself leaning on Sirius more than Dorcas, and he told himself it was because Sirius was sturdier than Dorcas, not because he liked being closer to him more. He had become very good at lying to himself since arriving at the palace.

With someone on either side of him, the walk was much better than when it had just been Sirius. He barely had to put weight on his injured leg at all, and eventually they made it to the staircase behind the line of people carrying stretchers up and helping the injured scale the stairs.

Remus clenched his jaw as they made their way up, thankful for the periodic stops they had to make from people slowing up ahead. By halfway there, Remus’ head was pounding, and he felt shaky all over, but Dorcas and Sirius held onto him tight, practically lifting him up the stairs, and after what felt like forever, they made it to the top.

The main room was chaos. There were already people bustling into the wing: injured guards and knights, maids who had been caught in the crossfires, hurt guests from the banquet. The injured that were already here were being loaded back onto their cots, and nurses bustled around wildly, attending to the newcomers.

“Tip your head down and try not to draw any attention,” Sirius muttered to Remus.

 _Right, like I would draw more attention than Prince Sirius Black_ , Remus thought, but he ducked his head anyways. Sirius turned his head away too, but Remus wanted to point out the fact that if his indistinguishable dark hair wouldn’t give him away, his royal clothes would.

Their hallway wasn’t as busy as the main room, and Sirius and Dorcas slipped Remus inside quickly. By now, Remus’ breathing was labored at best, his leg was screaming, his head was screaming, and honestly everything was just _screaming_.

The two must have been able to tell how much Remus was losing it because Dorcas passed Remus off to Sirius without question, and Sirius scooped him up to carry him across the room and lift him up onto his bed. his hands careful. Sirius brushed Remus’ hair back quickly, something he had done practically as much as he had held his hand by now, and Remus couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

He turned to leave with Dorcas. “I’ll be right back once we get Pomfrey up,” Sirius told Remus.

He nodded from his place on the bed. Or at least, he thought he nodded. He couldn’t tell anymore what was real and what was fiction created by his pained delirium.

“Thanks,” he tried to say, but he didn’t know if Sirius heard him. He didn’t know if Sirius responded.

Remus tried to stay up as long as he could after Sirius and Dorcas left, but time dragged on, and maybe it really wasn’t that long of waiting at all, but Remus felt his eyes drooping on their own accord, and the silence that his room provided despite the sound of people bustling around outside forced him into a sleep.

He didn’t think that Sirius ever returned.


End file.
